


Lose it

by IamTHEred



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Depression, Domestic Violence, Drinking, Eventual Smut, F/M, Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Murder, Serious Injuries, Serious smut, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-18 04:10:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 51,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15477375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamTHEred/pseuds/IamTHEred
Summary: The Joker saves our heroine from a violent marriage, was she worth saving?





	1. A wish granted

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a pseudo reader insert but I've never liked the [y/n] bit so I've just chosen not to name her.
> 
> This takes place in a current DCCU without Harley (much as I love her) so think Suicide Squad if you want a visual reference.
> 
> There will be smut, violence and various other triggers (this is The Joker we're talking about) please proceed with caution.
> 
> This is ongoing so I really have no major plans. Feel free to lend me some ideas.
> 
> Every chapter will likely be different lengths but I'm going to try and keep them bite sized.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unlikely saviour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: I cannot stress this enough

I stopped caring a long time ago.  
Caring about myself, caring about others, caring about him.  
I drifted through my days, barely noticing what he did to me. I couldn’t even muster the energy to flinch anymore. I didn’t care what he did, even if he killed me.  
I’d tried to get away, so many times. Every time he dragged me back. I stopped.  
I kept our home clean and tidy, cleaned his clothes, cooked his meals, did everything he asked without question. I didn’t duck anymore, didn’t cry anymore, didn’t resist anymore.  
I didn’t wear makeup, he didn’t like it.  
I didn’t gain weight, he didn’t like it.  
I didn’t wear trousers, he didn’t like it.  
I didn’t drink, or smoke, or swear… or talk. He didn’t like it.  
He was king, emperor, god. I was nothing.  
He did the same thing every night. He came in from work, smelling of whiskey and cheap smokes, and I took his bag. I gave him a beer and cooked his dinner. He watched TV, slumped on our threadbare couch with a cigarette hanging from the corner of my mouth. If I was good I could sit with him. If I was bad (the beer ws too cold, not cold enough, the house smelled wrong, the tv had moved) I had to stand behind him for hours. If I was very good I was allowed to rub his feet.  
If his sports team lost, I paid. If they won, I paid a different way.  
The pain of his pleasure was the backbeat of my life. I stopped caring, stopped trying to predict and protect myself.  
I stood by the door, beer in hand, on the last night.  
I heard his footsteps in the hall, my brow knotted. Too fast, too uneven.  
He burst through the door and slammed it behind him. His overalls where rumbled and he was limping. His lank hair fell in his face and he was panting. He noticed me and i made sure my features were smooth with his preordered smile ready.  
He growled and snatched the beer from my hand. He had no bag so I stood back, waiting.  
He finished the bottle in one long glup then threw it against the wall next to my head. It shattered and I felt the shards patter against my back.  
“Clean that up!” He spat and began to stalk back and forth. I fetched the broom and cleaned up the glass.  
A knock at the door made him freeze. He made no move to answer it just pointed at our kitchenette and I went to stand by the fridge.  
I was barefoot, he didn’t want me to have shoes, and I’d caught myself. I looked down and saw blood oozing sluggishly from a cut between my toes. I’d have to be careful not to spread it everywhere.  
Another knock, more forceful this time.  
“Marrrrrloooon.” Crooned a soft voice from outside the door. “Let me iiiiiiiiinnnnn.”  
He choked and bit his fist to stop from making any noise.  
“I know you’re theeeeeeerrrrre.” It came again but Marlon backed away from the door, almost falling over the couch. Familiar fury slipped over his features briefly, only to be replaced by fear.  
“I’ll break down the doooooooooooooooooooooooooor.” The croon turned into a growl as the last word when on.  
He shook his head and waved for me to answer the door.  
I stepped forward and unlatched it, opening it carefully so it didn’t squeak. He didn’t like squeaking.  
In the doorway stood a tall, lean, man with two larger men on either side of him. He was pale as moonlight and his emerald hair was swept carefully back over his skull. His lips were painted ruby red, like i had painted mine long ago. A memory stirred, did I know this man? No. I didn’t know anyone.  
The man was surprised I opened the door instead of Marlon. He smiled widely showing teeth capped with shining silver.  
“What a pretty, punch bag. May I come in?” He said graciously, I stepped back and he entered with his men. They were all dressed in dark clothes with dark glasses. All tall and muscled but of every race I could think of. They spread out, one in each corner, one by the door and the last in the kitchenette. He was as unlike them as I could think of. Dressed in a well-tailored white suit, with wingtip shoes that shone in the fluorescent light. The lily white shirt was unbuttoned to the waist and his jacket hung open to reveal two pistols holstered at his waist. Tattoos covered him like graffiti and his wicked ice blue eyes took in our small, drab apartment with amusement.  
I closed the door and returned to the kitchenette. Marlon stood next to the couch, head bent with his hands in fists at his sides. The man wondered to and fro like a curious child.  
“Marlon, you have a lovely home. I had no idea there were so many shades of shit-brown!” He laughed and Marlon flinched. He turned to look at me in my long grey dress, the bruises of the night before the only colour but for him. He stalked up to me and pushed my long hair out of my face to look in my eyes. I felt his breath on my skin, he smelt of cordite, alcohol and something more wild, like an animal in heat. I met his gaze without fear, what could he do that Marlon hadn’t? He looked, for a second, impressed before flitting away.  
“Now Marlon, you’ve been a naughty boy haven’t you?” He giggled. “Took something that wasn’t yours. Where is it?” He stalked up to Marlon, his voice deepening as he came closer.  
“Sold it.” He grunted in reply with set the strange man off with a keening laugh that echoed off the walls.  
“Sold it!” He sang. “Sold it!” He turned in a circle. “What did you spend the money on, prey tell?”  
Marlon didn’t answer and was rewarded with a blow to the face that was almost too fast for me to see.  
“Shall I guess? Dear Marlon? You spent it on drugs and sex didn’t you?” He laughed again as Marlon staggered back a step. When he raised his head I saw blood running from his nose. “You left your pretty little wifey at home and spent it all on whores and junk.” He grabbed Marlon by the hair and forced him to look into his face. “Tell the truth now.”  
Marlon nodded as best he could and the man laughed again.  
I felt like I should be angry but the feeling was so remote it was like hearing a voice from another room.  
The man drew one of his pistols which glittered coldly. And pushed it against Marlon’s jaw.  
“You, wifey.” He said and I realised he was talking to me. “Do you want me to spare your ‘loving’” His voice deepened, became seductive “husband?”  
“I-” I croaked. My voice was horse for disuse and the abuse he’d laid out on me. He loved to choke me and my neck was forever sore.  
The man spun around and before I knew it he was in front of me again, with his left hand he pushed the pistol into my ribs and with the other he tilted my head up, almost gently, to run cool fingers over my perpetually swollen throat. I gasped at his touch and his eyes devoured me. My bruises, my cuts, my rasping voice. They told a tale that didn’t revolt him. He looked intrigued.  
“Poor broken toy. Whisper to me now, santa knows you’ve been a good girl. What would you like for christmas?”  
“I-” I muttered and he drew even closer, twisting around me to wrap an arm around my waist and pull me against his chest. He lifted the pistol from my ribs and pointed it at Marlon. I could see down the sights of it as easily as if I held it myself.  
“Darlin.” Marlon said, raising his hands defensively. I could see the anger in his eyes, jealousy that this strange, seductive creature held me so close. “Keep quiet now.” He ordered.  
“She only has to whisper.” The man said, his lips close to my ear. “Any louder and her wish won’t come true.”  
His arm around my waist pulled tighter and the alien feel of his body against mine made my head swim.  
“I said stay quiet.” Marlon growled, his possessiveness over me overcoming his fear of the creature that held me. The other men in the room melted away.  
“I know what she waaaants.” He sang softly in my ear. “All she has to do is ask and all the hurt goes away. Pretty pretty pretty…” He muttered, his lips fluttering against my ear.  
“Please.” I whispered and he pulled the trigger.  
My husband’s head exploded and his body slumped to the floor like a puppet with broken strings.

He left, cackling, without a backwards glance. His men flowing him out.  
I was left alone with the shattered remains of my life.  
I picked up the phone and found it was dead, no tone. I walked to the neighbours and knocked. Mrs Grainger opened the door and I asked her to call the police. She had heard the gunshot. She nodded and closed the door quickly.   
I sat outside the open door to our apartment, leaning against the wall and hugging my knees.  
The police arrived quickly and ran up the stairs with guns pointed everywhere, pointed at me. When they asked me what had happened I pointed inside.   
They went in then came out and asked me to stand up. They saw his marks on me and summoned a female officer who led me gently to a car. She sat me inside and talked calmly at me for half an hour.  
I was asked if I’d killed him. I nodded, it was true, to me at least.  
I was taken to the police station and sat in a bare cell for a while. I was taken to a doctor who took away my clothes and examined every broken inch of my body. They gave me soft clothes to wear, a tee and sweatpants, and returned me to the cell.   
They took me to a room with a table and a chair either side. I sat down and they asked me questions. When they realised I could barely speak they gave me a pen and paper. I told them everything.  
My name, my husband, my life (such as it was), was laid bare to them. I saw no need to hide. I told them about our wedding, the babies we lost, the first time he hit me, the first time he forced me, the first time I ran.   
I told them about the strange man, the gun, my wish and the blood that came after.  
I saw disgust cross their faces as they read.   
I was left alone at the table for a long time. There was a plastic cup of water on the table for me and i sipped at it while I felt their eyes, their pity from the two way mirror that cast a dark reflection of the room.  
The officers came back, bringing a man with a beard and glasses that made his eyes too large. They told me about Marlon’s debts, that he didn’t really have a job, he just gambled and stole. He used drugs and slept with whores. He hadn’t paid rent on our apartment in six months and our light and heat and water were about to be cut off. He stole a car from the wrong man to pay his gambling debts but when he chose to use the money to fund his habits instead the wrong man was called.  
The wrong man had come to collect payment. The wrong man was gone and the freedom he left me with stung like winter's chill.  
They said I was innocent, a victim. They shipped me off to a shelter for victims where I was supposed to heal.   
The nurses there praised my strength, the victims there understood my weakness. I had a name for the wrong man and though my voice returned I never spoke it.   
They helped me find a job, a studio apartment far away from my home then left me to find my way. I faltered, drinking my money and finding no solace in that took to chasing a dragon through smoke filled dreams.   
I woke up and looked at my tattered life. Looked at myself in the mirror and shattered it with my fist. I didn’t understand softness anymore, I saw others living calm lives full of love and hope and found them meaningless. I was angry, I wanted the numbness back. I couldn't understand caring.   
I climbed as high as I could one night, sober and sharp. I leapt, hoping to end this life I couldn’t understand but a man swooped from the sky and caught me. I struggled against his iron grip, his handsome features knotted. He didn’t understand what it was to be broken, he was indestructible.  
He told me to ‘have hope’ and left me with doctors who talked at me and filled me with drugs that willed the world with fog.  
I drifted in the fog for a long time. It was comfortable, like home. Then I couldn’t afford the fog anymore and the sharp focus came back.  
I hated the indestructible man so I left his city to return to the one I remembered.  
Gotham, I was home.


	2. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebuilding

I found a job as a waitress in a greasy diner and rented a tiny one room apartment above a laundrette.  
I worked hard and got good at my job. My feet didn’t hurt, my back didn’t ache and the groping eyes of the customers didn’t matter.   
I found friends, never told them who I had been. I remembered how to smile, to laugh.   
Laura became my link, my lifeline. She and I worked together, drank together, had fun together.  
She dated awful men, one hit her. I wanted to kill him. She let him and when he turned up she threw things at him. I cheered her on, wishing I’d been so strong.   
One friday night I was cleaning the tables after closing when she came bouncing up to me. She was shorter and curvier than me. Her pink and white uniform hugged her beautifully and she never wanted for admiring looks. Her blonde curls bounced with her.  
“You’ll never guess what!” She squealed. Her blue eyes where full of mischief and she bit her full lips with excitement.  
“Go on then.” I goaded, swatting at her with my dishcloth.  
“Tina says she can get us into Mimic’s tonight!” She blurted. I smiled ruefully at her, Mimic’s was the hottest club in the city. I’d walked past it many times and admired the bright green neon and the beautiful people lining up to get in.  
“You go on and have fun.” I said, stretching my back. Not yet out of my twenties I felt like the oldest of the waiting staff.  
She pouted at me.  
“Please! Sissy, pleeeease!” She whined. She claimed me as her big sister often enough, even though she was older than me. I huffed and folded my arms, My feet were heavy and all I wanted was to fall into bed. The tips had been good that day, I guessed I had nearly $100 stashed in my apron.   
“I don’t have anything to wear to somewhere like that.” I said but her smile widened and I knew I’d made a mistake.  
“I have something that you can wear! Please!” She grabbed my hands and looked pleadingly into my eyes. I sighed.  
“Okay.” I grunted and she squealed and hugged me. I couldn’t help but smile.  
She took me back to her place and forced me to sit while she painted my face and styled my hair. Then with no small amount of drama she showed me the dress she’d had in mind. It was long, for which I was greatful, and made of some heavy dark blue material that stretches well. It was sleeveless and high necked. The hem of the skirt brushed my ankles but was slit at both sides right up to mid thigh. I put it on and had to admit that I looked good.  
Years of eating better had filled out my frame and i was no longer the frail creature that crept back to Gotham. I wasn’t as ample as Laura and my bra straps showed. She convinced me to take it off. She leant me a small black clutch purse for my few things but I slipped a couple of notes under the elastic of my panties as emergency money.  
She forced me into some achingly high black heels and hustled me out of her home as fast as she could.   
It was barely eleven when we stood in front of the club, the base droning from inside more intimidating than it had been when I was just passing by. Laura bobbed up and down unable to contain herself. She was wearing a tight flaming red cocktail dress with shoes and lipstick to match. I could feel the men looking hungrily at her and was amazed all over again that she invited their attention. I was glad my dress was dark and considered myself quite plain in comparison to her. Tina joined us in a bright green sequin outfit that looked as if it might just slither off her at any moment. I hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye with the dark skinned girl that bounced along with Laura but was happy she could make my friend happy.   
When we reached the doorman she whispered something in his ear and he swung open the door. We swept inside and I was enraptured by the place. I had never been in a club before and was surprised to find it so dark. The writhing shapes of the dancers on the wide oval dancefloor where silhouetted by the darting coloured lights. Here and there were booths full of glamorous looking people drinking cocktails, shouting to hear each other over the music.  
The bar was huge and seemed to stock bottles of liquor in every colour and flavor imaginable. I wanted to try all of it. I felt my body buzzing with the beat and felt the need to dance, one I long thought dead, rising.   
“We just have to go say hi to my boyfriend.” Tina yelled to us. “It's his club.”  
I understood now why we’d been treated with such reverence at the door. She led us to a booth tucked towards the back, furthest from the dancefloor. Here it was cooler and the music didn’t feel so harsh. I noticed that she moved with purpose, as if it were her who owned the club. The regality she was feigning seemed laughable to me as I remembered the last time a mustard bottle had burst on her and she’d let out a torrent of ‘oh bothers’ that would make anyone's grandmother smile.  
As we reached the booth I realised there were men stationed to either side, in dark suits that I guessed hid guns under the jackets. The booth had one occupant and I felt his eyes on us as we approached. My breathing tightened as we got close enough to see him, he almost glowed in the dark.  
Tina ran up and wriggled into the booth to kiss him. He barely seemed interested. She introduced us with a sweep of her hand and I wasn’t sure till his blue eyes locked with mine.   
The Joker.

He inclined his head so that we could sit with him. I slid in last, sitting on the edge of my seat as if I would need to escape at any moment. If my companions didn’t notice my discomfort, he did.  
He was really there, the wrong man, the strange man, the granter of wishes. I averted my eyes and hoped he wouldn’t recognize me.  
A waitress shimmied up and took our order. The two girls each ordered something hug and fruity. I wasn’t as daring and ordered a martini while he stayed silent.  
With our drinks in front of us I sipped cautiously, staying quiet while Laura and Tina chatted away with abandon. Looking up briefly he looked like a statue. He wore a wine red shirt, unbuttoned to just above his navel and dark slacks. Gold chains glinted at his throat and gold rings adorned his slender fingers. In the half light the hollows beneath is eyes were bottomless. Tina draped herself over him while she chatted. “Mr J this.” and “Mr J that.” He nodded occasionally but beyond that gave little response. A tumbler of whiskey sat untouched in front of him.  
The song changed and the girls squeaked.  
“Lets dance!” They chimed.  
“Come on Mr J!” Tina goaded but he shook his head. When she persisted he gave her a hard look that sent shivers down my spine but she simply shrugged off. I hesitated when they began pulling at me.  
“Let her stay.” He grumbled. His voice echoed across the years at me and I tensed. They stuck their tongues out at me but left. I stood looking out at them with the Clown Prince behind me, I felt his eyes on my back and I wished the dress were not so clingy. Thought about excusing myself and grabbing a taxi home. I grabbed at the thought and made to move when his hand closed gently but firmly around my wrist.   
I turned and he pulled me into the booth to sit next to him. He removed his hand and sat back, his arms draping over the seats. He was looking at me with curiosity, his mouth slightly open with a glint from inside hinting at his capped teeth. I fell still, smoothing my face as an old habit.  
“What was your name again?” He purred.  
“Doesn’t matter.” I reply quietly but the rebuff has only made him more interested.  
“What if I ask nicely?” He says, his voice more seductive now. He leans forward and studies my face. “Pretty, Pretty Pretty…”  
“Please?” I finish for him looking into his eyes. He smiles but there’s no recognition there. I am relieved and unhappy all at once.  
“No fair.” He says, his smile widening. “You know my name but I don’t know yours.” He slumps back. “It’s not nice to keep secrets.”  
I can’t help but smile back.  
“Call me what you want.” I say, calmer than I feel. He laughs, the animation in his face is a stark contrast to before. His eyes are bright and his smile wide. I can see the edges there, the mania. Not anger, just impulsiveness.   
Suddenly he leans forward and grips my chin with his long fingers.  
“Whatever I want?” He whispers. I find myself watching his blood red lips. “Now there’s a fun game.” His eyes run over me and I feel exposed in the tight dress.   
“J?” A voice calls us back to earth. The music seems louder than before. One of the suited men has turned and is pointing to a side door where another man is beckoning. The joker groans and rolls his head angrilly. He climbs out of the booth lithely and turns to go.  
Before he leaves he turns and rakes me with one last look. He turns and stalks away.   
When Tina and Laura return one of the men apologises and we have another round of drinks before leaving.

For days afterwards Laura and Tina can’t help but rave about the club. The other waitresses are jealous of Tina, of her apparent conquest over the Clown.  
She is asked often if she is scared of him, she denies it every time. At first I think she is a fool, then brave and then simply that she has not seen what he can do.  
A month passes when suddenly the owner of the diner, Rory, calls us all together. He heaves his overweight form in front of us to say that he is retiring and that the diner will be closing soon.   
We are distraught, the diner had been somewhat my home since my return to Gotham two years ago. I couldn’t imagine my life without it. I don’t notice the look on Tina’s face nor the way she slips away to talk animatedly on her little phone while the rest of us dissipate.  
After the lunch rush the next day she runs up to me and Laura who are trying to clean spilled tomato soup off the floor.   
“Ohmygod!” She exclaims. I look up from the floor, the mop hadn’t been doing any good so I’d had to climb down there on my hands and knees. “I got us all jobs!” I sit up fast and bang my head.  
“What do you mean?” says Laura as she rubs my head.  
“I convinced my honey to hire most of us for the club!” She said.  
“Really?” I say, climbing to my feet. “Thats-” I hesitate. “Thats great, Ti!” I say at last and she looks so proud of herself I’m surprised she doesn’t float.  
Word spreads fast and just a few days after the diner closes down we've all been asked to start work at the club.  
Its two in the afternoon when I knock on the door for my first day. The door opens and a girl ushers me inside. The club seems more worn out during the day, the heady magic of the night drained away to something more realistic. The walls I notice are dark purple in the light, not black as I supposed and the booths are upholstered with dark green leather, pitted and cracked.   
Several of the other waitresses are there already and we’re sat in a group before being spoken to by the manager, a sharp featured man called Mr Bates. He explains that while there are several waitress jobs available there is only one bartending job.   
This job would have better hours and higher pay, I looked around and saw all of my colleagues prek up at the idea. I decide then not to go for it.   
Unfortunately I’m not given that choice. We’re split into groups to be shown the job, as well as how to mix simple drinks. After a while I notices that we’re being split off one by one to speak alone with Mr Bates at a table at the far end of the bar. I don’t feel nervous as I don’t want the extra, I’m happy to have a job at least and am unsure if I could handle something like bartending.  
When my turn comes I shake his hand and sit down with my spine straight.   
“Right Miss, I’m going to ask you a few quick questions to see if you’re suitable for the bartending position.” I nod and he continues. “You’re asked to make three cocktails and a rum and coke which do you make first…”  
He asks several questions along these lines and seems satisfied with my answers.   
“Okay last question. The owner of this club is a very… discerning man. What would you serve him?” He asks, he has been noting down my answers and his pencil is poised once more as I think. I remember the Joker, the drink in front of him, his eyes on me. I shiver.  
“A double shot of bourbon, no ice.” I say and his eyebrows arch.  
“Well done, you’ve got the job.” He says.  
“Wait!” I say holding up my hands. “I’ve got the job?”  
“Yes, you’re the only one who answered all the questions correctly.” He said, he stands, shakes my hand again and walks away.  
The others ask what happened and I explain. At first jealousy keeps them quiet until Laura bounces her congratulations and the others pour theirs on as well.  
I’m given a book of recipes to learn and told to come back that night at six to start shadowing one of the other bartenders. I don’t have to wear a uniform but black is preferred.  
When I return that night in black jeans and a black tank top I’m handed over to Greg who is one of the more seasoned bar staff. It’s only a Wednesday so the club is relatively quiet but by the end of the evening I’m getting the hang of things.   
The days drag on and despite a few awkward moments on the first Saturday when I got orders wrong I began to enjoy the job. It was non-stop and exhausting but the tips were great. I had been worried about working for the Joker but it turned out he wasn’t there often.   
Another month passed before I saw him again.  
It was seven on a Tuesday night. I was cleaning the optics with my back turned to the bar when i heard someone sit on one of the stools. It was dark in the club but the music wasn’t as loud as on main nights. There was no mistaking my customer when I turned around.  
He lounged in the high backed stool, green shirt loose showing his bleached skin. I swallowed and before he could ask I poured him a double bourbon and put it in front of him on a napkin. He smiled wide and knocked back the drink in one, motioning for me to refill it.  
“Still haven’t decided what to call you.” He said as I put his new drink in front of him. He ran his finger around the rim of the glass, eyes on my face.   
I was called to serve a group of young servicemen on leave. They were excited to be out and about and were draining pitchers of beer almost as fast as I could fill them. By the time I turned back The Joker had left the bar to sit in his accustomed booth. I could still feel his eyes on me. Every so often I sent another drink to him.  
Later in the evening the table of servicemen was getting rowdy. I looked up to see one of them try to sneak his hand up Tina’s skirt. She squeaked and nearly ran back to the bar, face red. THe uniforms didn’t have much of a skirt to speak of so I understood her discomfort. Sparing a quick glance at the shadowy booth where her supposed boyfriend sat I came around the bar to put an arm around her.  
She turned and smiled at me, her eyes glassy with unspent tears. Before I could move off the same man stumbled up to us.  
“Come on baby! I’m sorry! Lets kiss and make up!” He said, laughing at his own slurred words.   
“Leave me alone!” She snapped and I saw a familiar look cross his face. He leaned back to hit out at her. I moved without thinking. I picked up Tina’s drinks trey from the bar and brought it down on his head. He stumbled backwards and his friends all stood up.   
“You do not-” I emphasised my words, venom dripping off my tongue “touch the staff. Get out.”  
The men made for us but stopped in their tracks as a slow, mirthless laugh filled the air. I looked up and saw him leaning against the bar, head thrown back, pistol casually held in one hand.  
When he turned his gaze to the men they froze, realising who he was.   
“Isn’t she fun!” He said, smiling widely. “Better skidaddle boys, before I have to find somewhere to bury ya!” He pointed the pistol lazily at them and they backed out slowly.   
As the door swung shut on the last one Tina burst into tears and ran for the ladies room. I turned to follow but felt the told touch of steel against my back.  
“Ah ah ah.” He tutted and I froze. “Quite the little spitfire, arn’t ya?” He said.  
“Sorry Mr Joker.” I say, afraid to move.  
“What for?” His voice is like a whip as he moves closer to me. I can feel his breath on my neck. “That was fun!” He said and I could hear his smile  
In the distance I could hear Tina sobbing.  
“Such drama.” He breathed and I swallowed. I felt the gun leave and heard him holster it at his side. I relaxed a touch but he grabbed my arms and twisted me round to face him. He folded one hand over my face, the tattoo on his hand giving me a great wide grin. He smiled and slid his hand round to cup my jaw, his thumb running over my lips.  
“Some girls.” He purred, eyes never leaving mine. “Know how to have fun, how to lose control. I wonder…” He moved closer, his nose only an inch or so from mine.  
I tried to move away and his hand moved to my throat, I froze, heart beating hard. I flashed to my old life, before the wish and felt my legs quaking. He noticed the change in me as his thumb ran over my voicebox. My breathing was harder and I was trying not to panic.  
He withdrew narrowing his eyes at me.   
He stalked back to his booth and didn’t emerge again that night.


	3. Just a taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loss of control

A week or two later and the club was closed to the public for one of The Joker’s parties. Slick silver poles were installed on the tables in the boothes and in select spots around the club. Women I had never seen before were flitting about when I turned up for work. I had been told to dress up a bit so I was wearing a knee length purple dress that was snug but comfortable. My hair was draped around my shoulders and I’d put on a little more makeup than usual.   
I realised I’d underdone it as the rest of the staff looked red-carpet ready. I shrugged inwardly and carried on, nothing I could do about it now.  
I made sure I had enough of each liquor as well as limes and lemons pre-chopped and ice to hand. As I felt around to gage how many glasses I had under the bar i noticed something different. There was a shotgun hidden behind the glasses. It hadn’t sunk in what kind of party this would be until then. I took a deep breath and left the damn thing alone.  
As the start time came and went the lights dimmed and the unfamiliar women began to gyrate around the poles to the rhythm of the music. The guests arrived and I did my best to serve them while keeping my eyes down.   
Voices were raised now and then and there was a delighted squeal occasionally from the women but the party seemed to be going well. I let myself relax a touch and listen to what was going on around me.   
The guests were mostly men, heavily armed men. They laughed and joked and ogled the girls happily. The Joker was holding court in his booth with Tina sat next to him. She looked amazing tonight in an electric blue dress but she looked like she’d swallowed a wasp. Every time her boyfriend and his companions laughed she seemed to grow colder. I couldn’t help but think their relationship wouldn’t last. If Tina was lucky she’d get out alive.  
I shook myself and carried on making up orders.   
By the end of the night I was more frazzled than usual. Most of the guests had left except for what I assumed was The Joker’s inner circle. I was expected to stay until the very end so while they all had drinks I busied myself tidying up. While wiping down the side I knocked the container of cherries off the side and they tumbled out all over the floor. I sighed and knelt down to collect them.  
While doing this I heard the main door open and close. Had someone left?  
I tried to listen but all the voices seemed hushed.  
“Mr Joker.” A drawling southern accent nearby. Not one I recognised. “Looks like you had one hell of a party.” I looked up into the mirrored back of the bar and saw the speaker. A tall man wearing jeans and a black tee. He was muscular and he held a machine gun in each hand. I heard chairs screech as the remaining guests stood up.  
“Mr Dent regrets that you forgot to invite him.” The man continued. I guessed none of them would be able to shoot him before he fired and with those guns he could take out mst of them. I reached behind the glasses and wrapped a hand around the shotgun. I lifted it as quietly as I could and pulled it towards me.  
“An oversight on my part. Please tell dear Harvey he will of course be invited to my next big party.” Replied the Joker. Despite the courteous words I could hear the warning in his voice. The southerner laughed.  
“Don’t you worry, he sent you a gift anyways!” He said and raised the guns. I stood and slid the action on the gun, like I’d seen in films, pointing it at him. I wasn’t a great shot but at this distance wherever I hit would hurt.   
“Drop it.” I said, a quaver in my voice. He looked long at me and dropped both guns. Before I could react he turned a drew a revolver I hadn’t seen. I pulled the trigger as he fired. I felt a push and a rush of heat in my arm but didn’t notice much as his chest exploded. He fell forwards, gurgling as I stumbled back, the recoil numbing my arms.   
The Joker’s men burst into action running up and checking if the assassin lived. He did, but not for long. Checking the doors for other assailants and generally swarming all over.   
My knees buckled and I sat on the floor, noticing my arm was bleeding. I looked and saw it was only a glancing blow, a line drawn in red hot lead across my bicep. I grabbed a cloth and pressed it to the wound.   
I sat, legs spread in front of me, shotgun beside me until the room grew quiet again. I saw out of the corner of my eye The Joker coming behind the bar and walking slowly towards me, arms raised. I wondered why for a moment until I realised i was still holding the shotgun. I pushed it away from myself, towards him. He picked it up and put it on the bar. If his grin were any wider the top of his head would be in danger.  
He came closer again and knelt down beside me. He moved the hand holding pressure on my arm and nodded absent-mindedly. Gently he pulled me up and guided me to sit on the edge of a table. His movements were exaggeratedly slow, as if he thought I might attack. I watched him carefully as he leaned forward gripping the table on each side of my legs and leant close.  
“Who put the gun there?” He asked the room. One of his men owned up and the clown nodded. “Did you tell our…” He paused “Little saviour here, where it was?” He asked.  
The man said no, explaining he didn’t think Joker would have wanted me to know. Quick as a snake joker pulled a pistol and killed the speaker. “Leave us.” He said quietly. The men filtered away.  
Soon we were alone, or nearly.  
“Mr J?” Tina said, tugging on his shirtsleeve like a child. His face was inches from mine and his gaze hadn’t left my eyes since killing his idiot henchman. He rolled his eyes towards her, the whites showing.  
“She did good. Let her get some rest. Come on, let's go to bed.” She said and he bared his teeth. I realised she was mistaking his posture for aggression, I felt no threat from him. At least no more than normal. My arm aches and my shoulders still felt numb. I couldn’t help but agree with her. She tugged again and I saw him sneer.  
“Tina, he’s not going to hurt me. You go on and I’m sure he’ll be along shortly.” I warned but she was pouting. She was jealous, the thought hit me. I had never seen her erstwhile boyfriend look at her with the intensity he was treating me to.   
“J, I’ve had it!” She snapped, tears in her eyes. “Come home now or we’re through!” He shrieked. His eyes rolled back to look into mine and he grinned. His eyes too bright his smile too wide.  
“Fine.” He said slowly. As before he drew a gun and shot her faster than I could follow. As she fell he shot her twice more.   
I gasped, shaking. Looking down at my friend as she lay crumpled in a growing pool of her own blood. Joker giggled and my attention snapped back to him. He holstered the gun slowly then seemed to consider me for a moment.  
I wasn’t ready when his lips crashed into mine, his fingers roughly gripping my hair. He pushed me roughly onto my back on the table my legs hanging over the edge. He pushed between my legs a and I gasped in pain as he knocked the wound on my arm. The gasp parted my lips and his tongue pushed in, dancing with mine. I was too shocked to resist him, too weak to push him away. My head was full of him, his hand running over me and he groaned into my mouth. He left my lips and ran his tongue down my neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive spots making me jerk and gasp. I couldn’t help but grab at his back. I could feel his growing arousal against me and realised I wouldn’t be able to resist him if he chose to take me there and then. I wasn’t sure I wanted to resist.  
I was no stranger to pawing hands and being pushed about, pinned but never with such passion. I groaned as he pressed against my core my dress hiking up over my thighs.  
“J?” Came a voice and the Joker didn’t stop, pressing harder making me shudder. “J!” The voice came again and the Joker growled, his teeth at my throat. I lay as still as I could. “Its Dent, he’s sent more men. We took them out but we need you.”  
The clown’s head rose and I saw his most trusted man, Frost, stood there looking awkward. No doubt had he been a moment later his boss wouldn’t have stopped. I was panting as he lifted reluctantly off me. His face paint was smeared and his hair was in disarray, his lips swollen and his eyes hot.  
I sat up slowly, only using my good arm.   
“Go home.” He panted before turning to follow Frost.  
It took a lot of effort to stand and to walk. I only lived three blocks from the club, they seemed to take a lifetime. My arm had stopped bleeding. I took a shower and bandaged it as best I could. I lay in bed trying to calm myself but all I could think of was the roar of the shotgun, the smell of blood and the feel of his long, lean body on mine.   
Eventually my body gave me no choice but to sleep and I dreamt of his laugh and of him turning to shoot me as he had Tina.

I got up the next day feeling worse than I had when I went to bed. The clock told me it was past noon and i shuffled to my little kitchenette to make some coffee.  
I sat on the edge of my bed and drank it. My little place was so small there was no room for a sofa. Just a tiny table and one chair, the single bed, a little kitchenette with little fridge, freezer and stove, a bookshelf, a chest of drawers and a TV. It was cramped but it had been home for over two years now.   
Photos covered the wall by the bed. Snapshots of me and my friends. I looked at one of Tina pouting seductively with Laura and felt like screaming. Had I really done that? I’d watched the Joker kill her without trying to stop him then succumbed to him next to her dead body. If Frost hadn’t have come I might have had sex with him then and there. I’d wanted to.  
I only just made it to the toilet in time, I heaved until there was nothing left in me. I poured the rest of the coffee away and brushed my teeth.  
I looked at myself in the mirror and sneered at myself. I washed, dressed and rebangaged my arm to protect it. I found I had tiny flecks of gunpowder embedded in my arms, I scrubbed as hard as i dared but they wouldn’t come out. I sighed and turned on the TV, I almost threw up again when the news was talking about the deaths at the club. Tina wasn’t mentioned but they talked about a big gun battle in an alley nearby.  
I wondered what they’d done with the bodies, shook myself and decided I’d rather not know.  
I ate a little when I dared and got dressed for work, taking two pain pills with some water and putting some in my handbag.   
I threw a light jacket around my shoulders over my habitual tank top and strolled out to work. I was stopped half a block from it by police tape. A cop told me that the club was closed for the night so I went home. At a loss I threw on my coziest pajamas and put on a silly old movie to cheer myself up. I’d checked my phone constantly through the day but received nothing.  
I texted Laura but got no reply. I was worried but tired to concentrate on the film. I must have fallen asleep because it was fully dark by the time I was woken by heavy knocking.   
The DVD menu was buzzing in the dark and my head felt like lead. I groaned at the sound.  
It was insistent so I staggered to my feet, mouth dry and nasty, and shuffled to the door. No sooner had I opened it thani was tackled by someone. I grunted, the air knocked out of my lungs as I lay on the floor, I kicked out and flailed my arms to fend off whoever was attacking. They kicked the door shut as they landed on me so we grappled in darkness. We rolled over each other as i tried to gain a foothold. I reached up and grabbed the closest weapon I could, a bread knife.  
I managed to find their head their jaw ther throat and held the serrated edge against it.  
“Who are you!” I snapped into the dark, my top was torn and I was straddling my assailants hips, the blade pressing into their neck enough to hurt. “Who sent you!” I spat when I received no response.  
A slow familiar laugh began and I felt the figure beneath me shake with the force of it. I reached out and opened the fridge door filling the area with a halo of harsh fluorescent light. Beneath me, disheveled with a bloody lip was the Joker. He was laughing, his grin wide and his eyes bright. I shrank back and pulled off him, pressing myself into the counter.   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” I dropped the knife and it clattered on the floor.   
He sat up and crouched next to me, picking up the blade and resting it against my cheek. He wore tracksuit bottoms and an open orange shirt. There were letters on the bottoms. I couldn’t make them out though.  
“Why’d you stop?” He said pouting. “You were sooooooooooo good.” He purred. He slid the blade over my cheek like a caress. Cold wafted from the fridge and I shivered slightly. I didn’t want to close the door, didn’t want to be in the dark with him.  
My arm ached and i was aware it was bleeding again. I clutched it to my chest, all bravado gone. The man before me seemed annoyed that I’d stopped fighting. I tired to inch away he stayed still, watching me. I was almost away when one hand whipped out and grabbed my ankle, pulling roughly so I fell in a sprawl. He leapt on me pressing my face into the cold tiles. I cried out but it was muffled. His face was pressed against my neck his weight pinning me, one long leg between mine.  
“You were perfect with that shotgun. An angel of death.” He growled in my ear as I tried to push him off. My flailing arms searched for anything that could help. They found the fridge door and swung it wide ito his head. He grunted and I scrambled away. I stood up and backed away in the dark. I had a baseball bat under my bed. I backed towards the bed. He stood flexing in the light of the fridge. He rolled his neck and smiled at her. “I wanted you so badly. That fire.” He growled and kicked the fridge shut, plunging us into darkness.  
I ducked then, feeling for the bat, finding it, snatching it then standing up.  
“St-ay back!” I warned, stuttering and eyeing the dark.  
I couldn’t see him and began to panic turning this way and that. He roared out of the dark and tried to take the bat off me. We struggled, he was stronger but I was more desperate. I got turned around as we fought and the back of my knees hit the bed, buckling them. I fell back and he wrenched the bat from my hands, he threw it behind him and i heard it connect with my tv.   
A car drove past outside and in the headlights glow i saw him standing over me, panting. He leant down as darkness fell again and i tried to hit out but he caught my hands and pinned them easily above my head.   
“Just want a taste.” He muttered as he lowered onto me. “Just a taste then I’ll go.” he says his lips brushing mine. My breath hitches, remembering how good he tasted.  
“Pretty pretty pretty.”  
“Please.” I finish.  
He closes the distance, not harsh this time not so vicious. There’s a tenderness to him this time. He moans lightly and his tongue darts across my lips making me part them. This is the slow burn of friction not the sudden violent passion I’d felt before. I feel my defences failing.  
“Tell me to go.” He says softly breaking the kiss. My lips feel bereft, I want to whine. “Tell me to go and i’m gone.” He runs hot kisses down my neck to my collarbone. I arch my back urging him on. His free hand flutters at the edge of my ruined nightshirt.   
That hand is quickly on my jaw holding me still as his lips flutter over mine again. “Well?” He says more forcefully.  
“Go.” I breathe. His grip on my jaw tightens and his body tenses. “You had your taste. Go” I manage through gritted teeth.   
He stands pulling me to sit on the edge of the bed I can feel bruises forming on my wrists and jaw.   
“Not over.” He growls and releases me. I hear him stom to the door, kicking anything in his way.  
The door slams open and I briefly see him silhouetted against the dim hall light. I expect anything but the sly smile he gives me before closing the door. Hear him laughing as he walks away.   
I scramble to the door and turn the deadbolt. Flicking on the light I see the destruction that is my small home. The table is knocked over and the stack of magazines that were on it are everywhere. The chair is missing a leg and my TV is smashed to pieces. I notice the knife on the floor and scoop it up. There are flecks of white and red on it. I run it under the tap carefully, leaving it on the draining board before righting the table and gathering the detritus.  
I’m not thinking really, just moving because I should. I walk into my tiny shower room and catch sight of myself in the mirror.  
My hair is a mess and of course my clothes are torn, most telling however are the deepening purple bruises along my jaw. I could see exactly where he had held me and I run my own hand over them, fascinated. My wrists are marked as well and there are some fine scratches along my cheek where he slid the knife over my skin.   
I shook myself. I remembered what it was to be hurt by someone, beaten until nothing mattered anymore. To be controlled by someone until your whole life revolved around them.   
Strangely I was sure that the Joker’s attentions were concerned with anything but control.  
My thoughts were scattered by another pounding knock at my door. More causious this time I stopped a few foot from the door and called out.  
“Who’s there?” I was proud of the fact my voice didn’t break. I half expected his high keening laugh and for the door to be kicked in or maybe he would just shoot me through it.  
“GCPD, miss. We’ve had reports of a disturbance, please open the door.” A clear voice rang out.  
I cursed silently and unbolted the door. I opened it expecting one uniform but instead there were two and an owl-eyed man I remembered from another life.  
“May we come in?” He asked, his mustache twitching as he spoke. I stepped back and they entered, it was obvious there’d been a fight, no use denying it.  
“Miss one of your neighbors reported sounds of a struggle from your apartment.” One of the officers explained. I crossed my arms and nodded.   
“I had a disagreement with an old boyfriend.” I lied smoothly, meeting his gaze. He was a little older than me, the uniform fitted well and his ernest looks probably got him quite far with most women.  
“Looks like more than a disagreement.” Replied the owl-eyed man, he peered over his glasses at the room, at me. I smoothed my face. “They reported seeing a man leave, tall, slim, with green hair.”  
I blew air out through pursed lips.  
“Joe’s hair is blue.” I said exasperatedly.  
“Joe?” Repeated the other officer, a square-faced man in his forties. I nodded.   
“He rough you up?” The first officer asked, he had a notepad in his hand and pointed at my chin with his pen.  
“I gave as good as I got.” I said meeting his eyes.  
“Do you want to tell us where he is? Press charges?” The square faced man said, his eyes bright with the idea of catching a woman-beater. Righteous men like him often failed when they met true monsters, I thought.  
“No. He’s gone.” I say shrugging.  
“Miss I have reason to believe that you’re lying to us. That your visitor was the man known as the Joker.” The owl-eyed man was feigning calm, I could see the anger under his facade.   
“The Joker?” I said, emotionlessly. “Why would he come here?”  
Annoyed he turned around, his long tan coat flapping around him.   
“Lets go, she doesn’t want to press charges.” He said and the younger officer followed him out. The older one lingered a moment.  
“Miss, a word of advice, stay away from men who treat you like that.” He pointed at my bruises. “You’ll just end up as a statistic.”  
With that he left and I closed the door after him. I was shaking with anger.  
So protective. Where were they when the walls of our apartment were my prison? Where were the concerned neighbours when I was thrown against the wall so hard it dented? Where were the police when he broke my jaw, my arm, my pride, my spirit? Why did it take a madman seeking revenge to free me? A broken toy in a ugly game.  
I lashed out and kicked my broken chair, smashing it to pieces. I hated everything, none more than myself. For wanting his touch, his kiss.   
I threw myself on my bed and screamed into my pillow. After a while I fell asleep, remembering his sly smile.


	4. Mischief Night

I woke up around midday the next day, aching even more. I had a voicemail on my phone from Mr Bates telling me the club would be open again that night.  
I showered and cleared away the remains of my TV and the dining chair. I scrolled through junk sale sites on my phone to see if I could replace them. I could afford new but I hated to spend money. I could afford a bigger place but never saw the need.  
Giving up I ate some noodles while watching silly videos and generally tried to distract myself until it was time to get ready.  
I slicked my hair back into a ponytail and rebandaged my arm. The wound was clean and healing. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror again and sighed at the marks on my face. I had mastered the art of hiding bruises long ago, hopefully no one would notice the extra makeup. Hopefully no one would ask why I was so good at hiding bruises.  
I dressed and headed to the club, autumn was closing in and the evenings were darker. I wished my route took me pas a park so I could see the leaves change.  
I hung up my jacket in the staff room and checked my makeup and hair in the mirror there. I felt the staff looking at my bandage, wanting to ask. I wondered what rumors were flying, if anyone knew about Tina, about the attack.  
I walked out to the bar and started my check over of the stock. The other bartenders tended to leave this to me and only emerge just before the doors were unlocked.  
I stooped to check the glasses and was shocked to find the shotgun back where I had found it. A shiver flowed through me at the memory of using it. The deafening bark and how the man’s chest had just burst.  
I chose to ignore it, secretly glad it was there. The lights dimmed and the night began.  
In all it was uneventful. Joker wasn’t there and the customers didn’t seem to know anything about what had happened. I was asked once or twice about the bandage on my arm but I told them all i was knocked down by a motorbike and cut my arm on a bottle in the gutter. Laura narrowed her eyes at my explanation.  
“If you say so.” She replied. “What’s the extra war paint for?” I’d forgotten how keen she could be. It was quiet and she leant on the bar casually, her gold hair hanging in ringlets and the tight uniform hugging her curves.  
“I got a hickey.” I lied smoothly. Her eyes lit up. She spent the rest of the evening bombarding me with questions about my new beau, I made up a quiet bookish man I met in the supermarket.   
I went to bed that night feeling a strange rush and a lot of ache from my shoulders and arm.  
No one knew what happened to Tina.

It was weeks until I saw him again.  
Halloween was here and we were having a big costume party at the club. The staff were given outfits to wear. The waiting staff were dressed as playboy bunnies complete with cotton tails and collars. The security team were gangsters straight out of the thirties and the bar staff where skeletons. They even hired someone to paint our faces and they even added some glow in the dark elements to give us a ‘day of the dead’ edge. The outfit was mainly a airbrushed bodysuit and I felt quite exposed until the lights went down and realised that in the dark they gave the illusion that we were just skeletons, it was very impressive.  
My bruises had faded and the aches had gone with them.   
That night the customers flowed in by the hundreds. Their costumes ranged from store-bought to homemade, cliched and cute to interesting and downright intriguing. Some brave souls had come dressed as members of the justice league, I watched a girl dressed as wonder woman dirty dancing with a mermaid. Some even braver souls dressed as the strange elite of Gotham. I saw passable versions of The Penguin and The Riddler and even a few daring versions of the Joker!  
I shook my head at these pale imitations cackling away. They seemed to be having fun until the real thing walked in.  
He was magnificent in his trademark purple suit, swinging a silver headed cane as he sauntered in with a gorgeous woman on his arm. She was dressed as Marilyn Monroe and looked every bit the part. They lounged in his accustomed booth and I sent a waitress over with his favored bourbon and a glass of champagne for the lady. I noted the moment she thought he’d ordered it for him and kissed his cheek. He locked eyes with me and I saw something there I didn’t understand.  
Turning away I served a group of giggling cheerleaders and was in the middle of serving a guy dressed as Batman when I heard a growl next to him.  
“Beat it.” When the young man turned to him he forgot his drink and his money and fled.  
The joker leant on the bar with both hands, his grin was wide and his silver teeth glittered in the neon lights.  
“What a pretty corpse you make.” He said.  
“Thank you boss.” I replied sweeping up the abandoned drink and money quickly.  
“What do you think of my new squeeze?” His eyes burned.  
“Pretty, hope she’s smarter than the last one.” I said raising my brows.  
He laughed hard at that, throwing his head back. He left me, still laughing. I watched him go and return to the imitation starlett. She looked confused. I really did hope she was smarter than Tina.  
The batman sidled up after a while and I gave him his drink and his change. He tipped me well and smiled at me.  
When I left work well after two in the morning I was glad of the cool air and was looking forward to cleaning the makeup off. I walked down the familiar streets, so quiet now after the constant bass. I noticed footsteps echoing my own. Heavy, a man. Even, not drunk.  
I quickened my pace and he matched it. I turned a corner and nearly ran headlong into his friend. He grabbed me and pushed me into a trash strewn alley. They were simply dressed in dark clothes and their eyes were cold as they came closer.   
“If you want my money you can have it, just let me go.” I reasoned, reaching for my purse. They shook their heads.  
“No money, girley. Dent just wants just to repay you for your little stunt.” One said quietly as they came closer. I backed up but there was nowhere to go. I hoped the pain would be over quick, maybe I could hurt them. Give them something to remember me by.  
A dark shape swept down from above and grabbed one of them. He disappeared, screaming ,into the air. The other thug drew a gun and swung around blindly looking for the attacker.  
The shape dropped to the floor behind him and unfolded. My eyes must have been like saucers as I stared at his unmistakable shape. He took out the panicking gunman with a swift blow to the head and he crumpled to the floor.  
I took another step back.  
He was taller and more imposing than I had imagined. Back body armour covered him from head to toe, the unmistakable points at the top of his mask and stylised logo on his chest made it undenyable who I was dealing with.  
“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice deep and gruff. I nodded. “You shouldn’t be out so late, miss.” He said, his eyes were hidden only his mouth was uncovered.  
“Working.” I managed. He grunted and knelt down to put some kind of cuffs on the fallen mans hands.  
I was frozen. My hands clenched at my sides so hard my nails dug into my palms. He stood and looked at me, seemed to consider for a moment before firing something upwards and disappearing.   
Alone with the prone, groaning man I was shaken. The last few minutes ran through my mind and I realised something important. I heard sirens in the distance, he must have signaled the police somehow. I had to act fast and took off out of the alley as fast as I could.  
I ran back to the club, thankfully not seeing any police on the way, and thumped the door.  
It opened a little and I saw one of the security men through the gap.  
“We’re closed.” He grumbled.  
“Its me you idiot.” I snapped and his eyes widened. He opened the door and I stepped inside quick. “I need to talk to The Joker, now.”   
He was looking down and I followed his gaze, I realised my hands were bloody, I had punctured my palms when I clenched my fists so hard.   
I swore at him and stalked in to the club and round to the back offices. I kept going until I saw another of the guards outside Mr Bate’s door. He raised his arm to bar me.  
“Let me in, I need to tell him something.” He didn’t move. “It’s the bat.” I said and he relented. He opened the door and lent in.  
“It's the bartender, boss, she says she needs to talk to you about the bat.” He said.  
“The bat! Well let her in.” I heard him say. The door was opened and I stepped in, feeling the breeze as it shut behind me.  
The room was dim and overcrowded. Several large men sat in leather armchairs while THe Joker sat at the desk, his legs slung up onto it. Mr Bates was stood against the wall, looking grim as ever and Frost sat behind his boss, a revolver held casually in his lap.  
“Well?” The Joker snapped.  
“The bat just saved me from two thugs on my way home.” I said quickly.  
“Did he now? And why should I care?” He yawned exaggeratedly.  
“The bat’s not important.” I said stepping closer. “The thugs were, they were from Dent.”   
HIs eyes narrowed, I had his attention. He sung his legs down and leant over the desk resting his head on his hands.  
“Go on.” He purred. I swallowed hard, coming closer again, trying to forget the armed men around me.  
“They knew who I was, that I worked for you.” He raised his eyebrows. “That I shot the one they sent after you.”  
“And?”  
“The only ones that know that are your men.” I said and felt the temperature of the room drop. I stared into those manic blue eyes. “One of them told Dent. One of them is his.”  
All the men stood up and a wide smile spread over his painted lips.  
I looked around and saw all of the men had drawn a weapon and were looking suspiciously at the others. I turned and wished I’d waited till morning.  
He climbed on the desk behind me and snakes his arm around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides.   
“Which one do you suppose it is?” He giggled into my ear. He turned me this way and that as if I were a lie detector. “Huh boys? Is this sweet little girl right? Is one of you doing the dirty?”  
I felt a gun pressed against my back, not the barrel, the whole length. He was using me to hide that he was armed.   
I wondered if he’d bother pushing me away or just shoot through me.  
“Come on!” He goaded the men. “Wanna shut her up? Now’s the time!” his voice was getting higher, his grip on me tighter.  
Two shot rang out and two men fell. The one behind them had two guns, both smoking, now pointed at me.  
“Come and get it, clown!” He spat. He looked like all the others. Dark suit, dark hair. Right now he was the scariest thing I’d ever seen. The joker slid his legs over the edge of the desk one of either side of my hips. I was his shield.   
“Look at him! So powerful, so manly. You wouldn’t shoot a girl would you?” Joker taunted gripping me hard enough to make me cry out.  
“If that’s what it takes.” His guns leveled on me. I panicked and began to squirm violently against his hold. Suddenly he released me but before he could act i turned and punched him in the jaw. His head tipped back and I snatched the gun.  
I turned and fired. Once. Twice.  
The man fell and I stood trembling pointing the gun at the empty space he’d been in. The others relaxed for a second until i rounded on joker with the gun. I drove forward and pushed it into his cheek.  
“You fucking bastard!” I hissed. I knew every gun in the room was pointed at me then. With one hand i gripped his purple suit and the other i dug the still hot barrel into his right cheek. His smile didn’t falter. “You were gonna let him shoot me to get to you. After I came here to warn you!”  
“Do it! You know you want to!” He goaded. His arms wrapped around me and one of his hands slid over my ass. “I want you to, do it do it do it do it doooooo itttt!” He whined. One of his hands slid around the back of my head twinning in my hair pulling hard making me grit my teeth. “Do it!” He growled.   
I was breathing hard, the world fell away except for him.  
I spat in his face and threw away the gun. I stepped away from him, shaking off his groping hands and at once was grabbed by Frost, who’d crept up behind me. He twisted one of my arms around my back painfully.  
The joker lay across the desk laughing hard, waving his arms and legs wildly.  
I struggled against Frost’s hold but he held me firm.  
“What should we do with her Boss?” He said.  
“Do? Oh yes…” He stands and stalks forward. “Whatever shall we do with you?”  
I spit at him again and Frost twists my arm harder. I swear and fall still.  
“We could just send her home?” Suggests Mr Bates.  
“And spoil the fun?” He giggles.  
He reaches out and twists his hand in my hair again, harder. I shout with the pain as he drags me downward. I feel like Frost will break my arm before letting go.  
“Out!” He roars at his men and they file out. They look at me coldly and with something approaching pity. Mr Bates leaves last and his look is something worse, it is goodbye.  
I’m left with Frost and Joker. At some signal Frost lets go of my arm and Joker increases his hold. I drop to my knees clutching my arm.  
“I’ll be outside.” Frost says and I hear the door close behind him.   
The Joker releases me and I sag, tears running down my face. I hear the desk chair squeak and look up through my hair to see him regarding me over steepled fingers. The silence is worse than the pain as his eyes pierce me.   
I drag myself up and push my hair back, clutching my arm to my chest.  
“Well!?” I say and he raises his eyebrows.  
“Come here, pet.” He croons at me but I stay where I am. He pats his lap and lifts his brows suggestively. I sneer at him but his smile just widens.  
I turn away and make for the door. I turn the knob and its locked. I almost whimper.  
“See? No escape. Come here.” His voice deepens as he speaks.  
I rattle the knob, pound on the door, kick it. I don’t notice him till he’s on me turning me pushing me into the door and pinning my wrists to my sides.   
I bare my teeth at him and struggle.   
“Silly girl.” He accuses and I spit at him again. He leans in nose to nose with me. He looks like he’s making a decision. I lift a leg, try to knee him. He smartly tuns it aside and one of his legs is between mine. His eyes are hot. As a last resort I jerk forward and headbutt him he flies back cackling but the force makes my head swim.  
He’s on me before I can recover and he pushes me against the door, growling. His lips find mine and he grabs my waist with both hands, pulling me into him. He groans and pushes against me his tongue intruding in my mouth rudely.   
My palms are flat against the door, trying to resist the urge to bury my nails into his back. He bites my lower lip and I gasp with the heady mix of pleasure and pain, I feel blood flow sluggishly down my face as he continues his delicious assault on my senses. He kicks my legs apart and pushes a leg between them so his thigh is pressing against my core.   
I can’t help it anymore and grab at his back and I feel his smile against me.  
“Frost! Where is J?” I hear a whining voice from outside and the Joker stops suddenly.  
“He’s busy, Miss Goldie. He’ll be along shortly.” I hear Frost rumble and guess that the intruder is Joker’s date for the evening.  
His lips leave mine and I think he’s going to stop, to withdraw, instead he runs his tongue along my jaw and nips at the soft skin at my throat. I moan softly and his hands run up to my chest, the bodysuit is twisted and his fingers threaten to tear through it as he finds my breasts my nipples. I’m panting, pushing against him.  
“Let me in Frost.” I hear her whine again and again Joker stops.  
“You don’t want to go in there, miss.” Frost warns. I wonder if he realises what’s happening inches from him.   
“Don’t tell me what to do!” She shrieks. “Let me in now!”  
Joker growls softly and he grabs my hips again, With a final thrust against me he throws me across the room and I land in a heap in the carpet. I look up and he is stood over me with a finger touched to his lips. He licks my blood from his lips lavasiously and smiles.  
“Let her in, Frost.” He calls and the door bursts open.   
She flounces in, no longer dressed like Monroe. She’s in a long blue silk nightgown I’d guess that there was little more than lace under it.  
She stops when she sees me but misjudges my smeared makeup and twisted clothes. I’m still panting and my lip is bleeding, she assumes that her ‘J’ was beating me.   
“Whatcha doing, J?” She asks touching his shoulder.  
“Just keeping the staff in line, dear. Our bartender here just asked for a raise.”  
I look up at him and he winks. I spit blood on the floor.  
“He said no.” I grunt.  
“Frost come and take this, dear sweet girl.” The Joker says almost affectionately.   
Frost comes in and heaves me off the floor and pulls me out of the office.  
“See you tomorrow!” Joker calls cheerfully before falling into laughter again.

Frost pulls me outside and pushes me into a car. He drives me home.  
“Go clean yourself up.” He orders. I look at him carefully, in his dark suit and neatly trimmed beard.   
“Go fuck yourself.” I mutter, opening the door. He grabs my arm.  
“Hey! Just show up for work tomorrow.” He barks.  
“Or what?” I snap.  
“Or the Boss might just stop being so friendly.” He says. I get out and slam the door shut, giving him the finger as he drives off.  
I stomp up to my apartment cursing the three flights of stairs.  
I get in and fall into bed without changing.


	5. A little light

The next day I wake up having smeared the facepaint I was wearing all over my bed sheets.   
I pull off the ruined bodysuit and examine myself in the mirror.  
The past looks back at me.  
Messy hair and a swollen lip, aching biceps and bruised pride. I can see my jaw clenching in anger. No tears though, only rage.  
I think back to my few interactions with the Clown Prince of Gotham. I can’t deny that I want him, that some broken diseased part of him wishes that he would have ignored his prissy arm-ornaments demands and screwed me last night.  
I step under the shower and scrub until my skin is pink and raw. I can’t deny that he is intoxicating, the way he talks, walks, acts, kisses.  
Soap runs into my eye and I swear loudly.   
I turn the water to cold and flush out my eye, soothing my abused skin at the same time.  
I remember Tina, the girl he killed because she wanted him to herself. I examine Miss Goldie, his new eye candy and realise that she’s the same. I refuse to end up like them.  
“Fuck it!” I growl to myself. “Every time he kisses me someone gets hurt” I pause and the truth comes crashing down. I’m right. He’s only interested in me when I get angry. My reaction to that man touching Tina up, my unthinking reaction to the southern man with the machine guns and my rage at his use of me as a shield. If he saw me now…  
I feel my blood heat up despite the cold and banish the thought. I can’t I won’t end up as his toy. A plan forms but I try not to hope, to think too hard, like looking at something out of the corner of your eye.

That evening I walk into work, not covering the marks on my face. I smile at everyone and tell them I was jumped for my tips on my way home. Laura hugs me and there’s a lot of sympathy all round.  
I ignore the shotgun still under the bar and get everything ready with a strange kind of tranquility. The evening begins, its Saturday so it's busy and I treat every customer to a smile. I’m wearing a white blouse rather an my usual black tank and under the UV lights I glow as I move.  
I bounce to the music as I work and get plenty of tips, a few concerned looks but my cheerfulness seems to blow them away like leaves in the wind.  
At two thirty the lights turn on and the music turns off. I’m cleaning the bar, humming to myself when he appears.  
He stands at the bar in all black, gold chains glittering against his pale chest. As always his shirt is unbuttoned to the navel and tonight two pistols hang from his hips like a cowboy.  
“Evening boss!” I say with a smile. “Can I get you a drink? Just closing down.” He narrows his eyes at me and I widen my smile.  
As if by magic his new lady appears at his side. She’s gorgeous in a shimmering gold dress.   
“Look honey, it’s your little visitor from last night!” She purrs, wrapping her arm around his. Her big brown eyes regard me like you’d look at an ant. He’s barely noticed her.  
“That’s me, sorry we haven’t met properly miss?” I give her another smile and her painted lips twitch in amusement. It’s clear she’s judged me as stupid.  
“Ruby Zoloto, You may call me Miss Goldie.” She introduces herself.  
“Of course. May I get you a drink, Miss Goldie?” I say, giving her a respectful nod. Just an employee todying to the boss’s new lady. She looks approving.  
“We’d love a bottle of Champagne, wouldn’t we J?” She says running her hand sensually and possessively up and down the Joker’s arm. He finally looks at her but there’s no heat in his gaze. I pull a bottle of our most premium Champagne from the chiller and put it on the bar with two glasses.  
“Would you like me to pour?” I ask and she shakes her head.  
“We’ll take up upstairs.” She says looking me up and down as I stand back with my hands behind my back like a soldier. “I see you learnt your lesson from last night.” She says reaching for the bottle and glasses.  
“Oh yes ma’am.” I reply with a smile. The Joker’s eyes meet mine again and I return his look levely. “Never make that mistake again.” His brows rise for a second.  
“Good. Come on now Mr J! Lets go have some fun!” She says pulling him away. His eyes stay on me until he needs to turn. His hand settles on her swaying derriere as they walk away and I shake my head before returning to my cleaning.   
“Quite something, isn’t she?” says a familiar voice. I look up to see Jonny Frost looking at me.  
I smile noncommittally and he walks away.   
Later while i collect my coat he comes up to me again with a small brown paper bag.  
“Joker wants you to have this.” He says holding it out to me. I take it and go to look in it but Frost stops me. “Look later. I’ll give you a ride home.”  
I shrug and accept the offer. It’s not far and no more words pass between us even as i get out and he drives away.  
Back in my apartment I sit at the table and carefully open the bag. Inside is a packet containing a black leather leg holster,a small snub-nosed revolver and a box of bullets. The gun is unusual, silver with purple and green accents like flames. On the handle there is a word engraved on both sides ‘Hotshot’. I guess The Joker finally worked out what to call me.  
There was a note wit the dangerous gift. In an unexpected flowing hand in purple ink:

Hotshot,  
A taste is never enough.  
Wear this at work.  
Never know who wants a bite.

He hadn’t signed it but I knew the author easily enough. I sighed and used my phone to pull up websites to teach me to load the thing. If I was going to wear it, I needed to know how to use it.

A week passed. I got more and more used to the heavy gun on my right thigh as I worked. In the dark most patrons didn’t even notice it was there. I wore brighter shirts and smiled at everyone; good customers, bad customers, good tippers, bad tippers and even the ones that stared too long at my chest.  
The more I smiled the less I felt his eyes on me. I reveled in this new knowledge. Happy, bouncy people held no interest to him. Miss Goldie only looked at me with mild contempt, she was a fixture at his side now and I didn’t send him bourbon anymore. Only champagne.  
I considered looking for a new job now he wasn’t looking but I liked the club and working with Laura who seemed more relaxed now as well.  
The Joker appeared less and less.  
Soon it was weeks since I last saw him and everyone seemed happier for it.  
Without Frost there, Mr Bates was free to run the club as he felt best and we were packed most nights.  
One tuesday I met his new bookkeeper and General Assistant, George. He was tall and slim with mousey hair and silver framed glasses. He was sweet and handsome, his dark blue eyes were bright and he was very courteous.  
That friday we were having a ‘throwback’ night. Mr Bates had come up with the idea of following other clubs in the area. It would be a night of 90’s fashion and music to bring in the crowds.  
I bounced along with the music with renewed rigour that night and sang along with every hit. Not long after nine I noticed George sit at my end of the Bar. He drank beer and I refilled it for him regularly. It was too loud to talk but I could feel him watching me as I danced around. I’d been daring that night and wore a neon pink boobtube along with my habitual black jeans. Several inches of my stomach were visible and while I was pale (working nights will do that) I was confident in my curves.   
The last song of the night was ‘Wannabe’, an old favorite by the Spice Girls. I knew every step of the dance and didn’t care who saw me reenact Scary Spice’s moves behind the bar. I got more than one admiring glance and George even gave me a small applause.   
I was smiling to myself as the lights went up and the customers left. George was still at the Bar and I wondered over, He usually wore a brown three piece suit but he’d shucked off the jacket for now.   
“Didn’t know you liked britpop?” He said after twisting a finger in each ear, it could be a bit deafening.  
“I love the London sound!” I said doing an awful english accent. He smiled and his teeth were bright and even. I returned the smile realising I was blushing.  
“May I walk you home, Miss Neon Spice?” He said and I giggled. Some part of me went cold. I was blushing and giggling. It was alien to me. I said yes and he said he’d wait in the staffroom for me.  
I watched as he walked away, absent mindedly admiring him from behind.   
Laura ran up, having seen our exchange. She looked excited.  
“Ohmygod!” She squeaked. “You like him!” she said as I began wiping down the bar. I smiled again.  
“Maybe.” I said and she bounced like a schoolgirl.   
“I’ve been seeing that doorman, you know, Mike? We should so go on a double date!” He said excitedly. I held up both hands.  
“I haven’t even gone on a single date with him. Give me time.” I said and she stuck her tongue out at me.  
I finished cleaning and met him in the staff room. He held my coat to let me slide my arms in and held the doors open for me like a gentleman.  
It was cold and i put my hands in my pockets as we walked.  
“So, how long have you worked for Mr Bates?” I asked.  
“Only a week or two. And you?” He replied and I felt his eyes on me.  
“A few months.” I reply. “I was a waitress before.”  
We talked as we walked. He was a little older than be and had been to business school. He was from Metropolis but moved to Gotham to do an internship at Wayne Enterprises. He didn’t get a job at the end. His parents were alive and well and he had two sisters.  
“What about you?” He said as we turned into my street.  
“Not much to tell. Married young, no family to speak of.” I said.  
“Married?” He said and I could hear his concern.  
“He’s gone, gang thing.” I said and he seemed to relax.   
“So you’re single?” He asked, I stopped and turned to him.  
“Free as a bird.” Sid with a sly smile. He looked bashful.  
“Would you like to have dinner sometime?” He blurted and I nodded. He looked relieved and took my hand gently.  
“I’m free tomorrow night.” I said.  
“I’ll pick you up at six.” He said and ran his thumb over my knuckles.  
He left me at the door to my block with a smile.

The next day I met him at the curb in a knee length pale green dress covered in black polkadots. He was in a suit again, this time in dark blue. He held the door of a cab open for me and we raced off into the night.   
“So where are we going?” I asked after he’d finished complimenting my hair my makeup my dress my shoes my skin.  
“La Deux Etoiles. That french place near the courthouse.” He said and I smiled. I’d wanted to see what it was like in there. “Then I thought we’d go to that little bar nearby, they have a jazz singer there who is just lovely.” His eyes sparkled.   
“Sounds great.” I replied.  
The meal was fantastic, we both had a duck dish that I couldn’t pronounce and shared a chocolate souffle afterwards. The restaurant was quiet as it was a Sunday and the candlelight along with the wine made my head swim pleasantly. I protested when he said he was paying but I relented when he promised to let me buy the drinks afterwards.  
As we walked the two blocks to the bar we passed the theatre and he caught me admiring the posters.   
“Maybe we could go sometime?” He said.  
“Maybe.” I said biting my lip coyly.  
The bar was dimly lit and we sat at a little round table in front of the little stage. Everything was dark wood and leather and the singer, a slim dark skinned woman in a gorgeous pink dress, was sublime. We sat enraptured for a while and he slyly linked his fingers with mine. I couldn’t help but smile.   
We stayed until the singer finished and hailed a cab to take us back. We didn’t talk but his hand didn’t leave mine.   
At my place he paid the cab and got out with me.  
“Presuming much?” I joked as we stood outside.  
“I don’t live far, seems a waste to make him wait.” He said smiling at me.  
“Thank you. I had a wonderful time.” I said looking up into his dark blue eyes.  
“Me too, I hope you’d like to do this again.” He ran his thumb over my knuckles again and I nodded.  
He seemed to decide for a moment and leant towards me. Fearless i closed the distance and touched my lips to his.   
For a moment everything fell away. The dark street, the cold, the sounds of the city all left as he wrapped his arms around me.  
He broke away and smiled.   
“Goodnight.” He said and didn’t leave until the door had closed behind me.

The next day I turned up for work with a song in my heart. Laura ran up to me as soon as I got to the staff room and I recapped the night for her. She sighed wistfully.  
“Oh how magical!” She said. “You deserve this.” She said. I’d never gone into detail about Marlon. She only knew it had been bad and I had been hurt by him.  
George sat at the bar again that night and walked me home. We kissed at the door again.  
This became our routine. Each night when he’d finished the books he would sit with me and then walk me home. He took me to dinner again on my next free night and that time the kiss deepened. I was on the cusp of inviting him in when he said goodnight.   
To be treated so graciously, so courteously left me tingling.   
The next time he walked me home he didn’t say goodnight. He didn’t say anything about my small apartment and shabby furnishings just took me in his arms.  
He made love to me gently, kissing me everywhere. He’d brought protection and I teased him but he just smiled.  
As we lay in the dark enjoying the afterglow I told him I didn’t mind if he had to leave. He just kissed me and rolled over.  
He took me out for breakfast the next morning.  
I stayed at his place the next night.  
He called me his sunshine.


	6. A light goes out

We’d been together for about two months by the time the club held its next ‘throwback’ night. George and I had christmas dinner together and kissed at midnight when the new year began. We said ‘I love you’ at the same time and I’d never felt happier.  
I heard at work that the Joker had been caught smuggling guns by the bat and had was in Arkham. Something inside me was sad at that but I was so caught up with George that I barely noticed.  
I wore my boobtube again that night and George had his usual station at the end of the bar. I was bobbing along to some old Oasis song when i felt a new set of eyes on me. Looking up I saw Frost stood against the wall. I hadn’t seen him in a long while and I smiled at him only to get a frown in return. I shook it off and continued my night.  
When the lights went up George stood to go and meet me in the staff room. I stepped out from behind the bar and wrapped my arms around his neck. He caught my hips and kissed me tenderly.   
“Tired?” He asked when our lips parted and I nodded. The other staff were well used to us by now and no one seemed to notice. He kissed me again then retreated to the staff room.   
I finished my cleaning but noted that Frost was still looking at me. I chose to ignore him.  
I called my goodbyes to the others and made for the back myself. Frost barred the way.  
“Hi Johnny.” I said. “How have you been?”  
“What do you think you are doing?” He said looking at me like I was a dog that had gone on the furniture.  
“I’m going home with my boyfriend.” I said, my hand fluttered over the gun that sat on my leg. I’d never fired it, not once.  
“You’re an idiot.” He said. “J isn’t going to like this.”  
I took a deep breath.  
“Not his business, or yours.” I replied still smiling.   
His brow knotted but he stepped aside. I left quickly with George in tow after that.  
I told George about it on the way home.  
“I guess we should stop kissing at work.” He said holding my hand and squeezing it. “I think he just means they don’t like staff members being together. Lots of places don’t.”  
“I hope so. The boss can be a bit…” I waved my free hand. “Over the top, when he doesn’t like things.”  
“So I hear.” He said.  
“Have you met him?” I asked and he shook his head.  
“He’s in Arkham I hear, best place for him.” he said with a smile.  
“Definitely.”

The next night I was off so George took me out to the jazz bar. They had a full band in that night and we danced together. We were there quite regularly now and I knew most of the clientele by sight.   
There were booths at the back of the bar far from the stage and I could feel someone looking at me from the shadows.  
“Whats up, Sunshine?” George asked as we took a break by the bar. I leant against the hard wood and looked at him. “You seem tense.”  
“Not sure, I feel like I’m being watched.” I explained and he chuckled. He raised one of my hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles.  
“You look amazing tonight. No wonder people are looking.” He said. I was wearing a dress he’d helped me pick. It was long and shimmery, backless and draped over my body well. I smiled at him and nodded in agreement. He kissed me and I smiled again.  
We danced until the band finished and I excused myself to go to the ladies room.   
The restrooms were through a door and down a hallway. On my way back a shadow darted out and pinned me to the wall.  
Bright blue eyes were inches from mine as my arms were pinned to the wall at my sides.  
“Well if it isn’t my little Hot. Shot.” He growled. I forced myself to smile at him.  
“Hello, Mr Joker.” I said proud that my voice didn’t quake.  
“Whatcha doing with that suit?” He said leaning in closer.  
“Thats my boyfriend, George.” I replied calmly.  
“Georgy porgy puddin’ and pie. Did he kiss the girl and make her cry?” He sang holding my wrists tighter.  
“No sir. No tears here.” I replied brightly. He was nose to nose with me now.   
“Got his stink all over you.” He breathed.  
“If you’ll excuse me.” I said carefully.  
He paused for a moment, his lips dangerously close, before he stepped back and let go. I walked away without a backwards glance.  
I grabbed George and went outside to hail a cab. I insisted we go to his rather than mine, he made love to me that night but as i lay in his arms I dreamt of a very different set of blue eyes.

 

I told him my worries as I nursed a cup of coffee on his big couch.   
“So he’s back?” He says rubbing his nose with one of his thumbs. He’s already dressed in one of his suits, the tie i gave him for christmas tied beautifully at his throat. I nod. He shrugs. “He lost interest in you a while ago though. My guess is he just wanted to get a rise out of you.” He leans over and cups my cheek. “My sunshine would never do that though.” He says and I smile at him, letting the lie be true.  
He kisses me and leaves for work, I’m sat on his couch in nothing but my underwear and one of his t-shirts. I don’t have to be at work until much later of course.  
I lie back on the soft cushions and try to reassure myself that he’s right. I keep remembering the way the clown looked and it chills me and thrills me in equal measure.  
To distract myself I remember on our lovemaking last night and let my fingers drift over my panties. I remember the noises he makes as he enters me the feel of his body against mine. The way he mutters in pleasure. He likes to look into my eyes as he climaxes but in my head his eyes change and I imagine different lips on my neck, harsher hands on my body and a different voice in my ear. Even as I realise that I’m reacting to a different partner I jolt from my fantasy.  
I want to scream, to hit myself.   
I throw myself under a torturously cold shower after that and storm home.  
I worry all day before throwing on a gauzy pink blouse and my usual trousers. As I’m tightening the straps on my leg harness I let my mind drift again. Lips, teeth, hands, nails. I shake myself and finish getting ready.  
When I walk into Mimic’s I guess that everyone knows he’s back. The staff are nervous and darting around like royalty is in the building.  
I take a deep breath and walk out to the bar. He is already installed in his booth but I’m relieved to see Miss Goldie already curled next to him. With her there as a distraction I hope he will be calmer.  
Still I feel his eyes on me. I make sure my blouse is buttoned and reassure myself that my pistol is still at my side.  
The evening begins and thankfully it is busy. I send the usual magnum over to the booth and stay focused on my work. I’m both pleased and terrified when George takes up his usual post. I’m sure I can feel the anger flowing towards us.  
Even through the music I hear a squeal from the booth at one point but do my best to ignore it. Until Miss Goldie comes to the bar, cradling her cheek.  
“Mr J, would like a double bourbon.” She tells me through gritted teeth. Her eyes are glassy but she looks like sympathy will not be well received. I pour and put the drink in front of her. “Would you like a drink, Miss Goldie?” I ask.  
“I’m not to drink anymore.” She says, snatching the glass and stomping back to the booth.   
George catches my eyes and I see anger brewing there. I try to warn him with my eyes.  
For the rest of the night I send a new drink over every so often. Whenever I let my eyes stray on that direction I see a new person sat with the couple, another man repledging himself I guessed. Goldie looked petulant even in her emerald green finery. I worried for her.  
I worried more when I caught George looking daggers at the Clown.   
When the evening finally came to an end I was thankful. George went to the back without a word and I set about cleaning at lightning speed.   
A gunshot made me leap out of my skin and look up. One of the waitresses screamed.   
The Joker was sat back at his leisure but the man across from him was dead. Joker put his gun down on the table picked up his glass and downed the drink. Goldie looked terrified and nauseous.   
Another man came flying at the booth but was cut down by the Joker who picked up the gun and fired so quickly I didn’t see it. A smile split his face as the man fell and he let off random shots all over the club. Laughing all the while. I ducked as the mirror behind the bar shattered and I automatically touched my pistol.  
I stood slowly when I heard his gun click empty. One of the guards and a waitress lay in pools of blood and a few of the light fixtures were sputtering wildly.   
I was thankful when I saw laura was cowering behind the DJ set up. I did my best to control my breathing. He was still laughing.  
I swallowed and slowly came out from behind the bar. Frost was talking to him fast but the Joker’s eyes were glazed.   
Careful not to move too quickly I sidled up to the waitress and knelt to feel her pulse. Dead. I didn’t need to check the guard, the top of his head was missing. I could see that it was the one that Laura had been seeing ad could hear her weeping softly.   
I motioned for the remaining staff to leave and they scuttled through the door as fast as they could. I moved to follow when I heard a gun being cocked behind me.  
“You.” He said, his words were clearer than I expected. “Drink.” He snapped. I swallowed and returned to the bar, he was following me with his pistol eyes on me at all times.  
I poured him a large double and walked over with it.   
Frost stood behind him looking very unhappy and Goldie looked like she’d gone somewhere in her head, her face was blank. As I got closer I saw why, there was another gun being pressed into her stomach.  
I put the glass on the table and slid it in front of him.   
“Look, Frost.” He said his eyes and smile wide. The pistol now I came closer was pointed squarely at my chest. I smiled at him. “Its Georgie Porgies Girl.” He finished.  
“Yes, boss.” I said cheerfully. “Can I do anything else for you?” His eyes flared.  
“No, miss, go on home now.” Said Frost and I began to back away.   
Before I could get far the door to the staff area burst open. I didn’t have to look to know who it was. The Joker began to laugh as I felt someone at my back.  
“Why if it isn't Georgie Porgie himself!” He roared between laughs. “Here to kiss the girls!”  
I felt George’s hands on my arms and I kept backing up, pulling him with me. The barrel of his gun kept following me.  
“Don’t worry, Mr Joker.” I said as brightly as I could manage. “Kissing Miss Goldie is your job!”   
He turned to his female companion and his eyes seemed to darken.  
“That’s right.” He said “Get out, all of you.”  
I hated myself for throwing her at him but there was nothing else I could think of to distract him. Frost left quickly and pulled us in his wake. As soon as we were out of his sight on the back rooms George began checking me as if I had been shot and not noticed. Frost looked on disapprovingly. We left as quickly as we could.  
I forced George to run with me and soon we were out of breath but several blocks away.   
“We have to go to your place.” I said between pants. “He knows where I live.”  
“We should call the police!” he said.  
“No, he’d kill us.” I replied.  
With a lot of coaxing I managed to convince him to go back to his apartment. It had a doorman, it was bigger and I hoped, harder to find.  
We sat on his couch in silence, George was doing his best to control his anger and fear. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists. I reach out and took one of his hands.  
“Its okay, Frost will calm him down.”  
“We need to tell someone!” He snapped between clenched teeth. “He just killed those people in cold blood.”  
“He’s The Joker.” I said as if that explained everything. He looked at me.  
“So? That doesn't give him the right!”   
“I know.” I soothed. Finally he looked at me. He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel him shaking.   
We held each other through the night, he wouldn’t let go.  
Finally as the sun rose he began to calm down, he was so sure that the monsters only came out at night. 

I stayed all that day, we made love and he cooked for me.   
Mid afternoon I was sure he was calmer.  
“I’m going to have a shower.” I said and kissed his cheek. He smiled weakly and I left him watching TV. His Living room was huge with a large modern kitchenette, big glass dining table and massive grey L-shaped sofa facing a massive TV mounted on the wall.   
I crossed to his bedroom and into the bathroom. He ad the luxury of a large tub and a shower cubicle, all the tiles were black and the fixtures gleamed. He had a cleaner come twice a week.   
I climbed out of my clothes and stepped under the water. I hadn’t even started to wash my hair when I heard a thump. I stepped out from under the water and turned it off. I stood, naked and soaking, listening. Another thump and a groan.  
I mouthed a swear word to myself and grabbed a towel. I wrapped it around myself and searched through the little pile of clothes I had left. There in the pocket of the sleep pants I had been wearing was my pistol. I pulled back the hammer and braced it in both hands.  
I opened the bathroom door as quietly as I could and padded across the deep carpet of the bedroom to the half open door.   
George was on his knees in the middle of the living room. Both arms wrapped behind him, tied perhaps, his head was bleeding. Sat in a dining room chair in front of him, facing away from me was the Green haired maniac himself.  
“Well Georgie Porgie! I won’t ask nicely again! Where is she?” I couldn't see well but i knew he’d be armed.   
“Fuck you.” George groaned and The Joker lashed out, smacking him across the jaw with a large revolver. He fell to the floor and lay, groaning. He Joker stood and pointed the gun at his head. I heard him pull back the hammer.  
“Well too bad!” He laughed.  
I stepped out and pointed my own gun at him.   
“Back off!” I snapped and he turned, his grin widened when he took in my lack of clothes.  
He took a step back but didn’t stop pointing his gun at George who was now looking at me, terrified.   
“Ooo look Georgie! The little girl did come out to play!” He laughed at me.  
“I said back the Fuck off!” I growled moving forward, hoping to put myself between him and George.   
Insead he sat down and pulled George up by his hair, the barrel of the gun under his jaw. I could see him shaking. My grip tightened on the gun but I couldn’t be sure now if I fired I wouldn’t hit my lover instead.  
“Let him go.” I said, trying to keep my voice even.  
“How about you give us a show instead. Huh Georgie?” He jabbed the barrel harder into Georges jaw. “Drop the towel then maybe we’ll talk.” He licked his grinning lips as he spoke and I saw George tense.   
“Fuck you.” I said.  
“Promises, promises.” He laughed.  
“Don’t do it, run.” Gorge managed and the barrel was pushed harder into him.  
“Now, now. Don’t be shy dear.” He sang.  
I stepped closer, trying not to look at George, at his eye that was swelling shut, at his bloodied head.  
“Run.” George managed again.  
“If she runs, I’ll shoot her. Then I’ll shoot yooooooou.” Sang the madman.  
“He’s right.” I said. I knew I had no choices here.  
“I’ll make you a deal. Drop the towel and I’ll let him go. How about that.” He said and George tensed again.   
I could feel my heart beating hard, my face flushed.  
“Swear it.” I growled and he ran his fingers over his chest in a childish ‘cross my heart’ gesture.  
“I do this and you’re gone. Hurt him and I’ll shoot you wear you’ll die slow.” I said.   
“You have my word.” He said, eyes meeting mine.  
I took one hand off my gun and loosened the towl, let it drop and pool around my feet.   
His eyes went dark as they ran over my body. I was still soaked and felt my skin prickle from the cold. I have scars, all over, from another life. I’d had to tell George the truth when he saw me in the light for the first time. I told him everything except how it ended. He’s cried and held me close. I remember thinking it was strange to have someone cry for me.  
George jerked, looking away, trying to allow me some dignity. The Joker devoured me with his eyes, taking in every curve every dimple.  
“Now go.” I breathed.  
He released George and rose slowly my gun following him, I could shoot him but I’d have to kill him with one shot and I didn’t trust myself to do that.  
His eyes returned to my face, he was still smiling but it was different now. He was breathing hard and his eyes were hooded. My eyes flicked to his lips, just for a second but he saw it and his smile widened.  
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” I said, emphasizing each word. He backed out, hands raised until he was stood in the doorway. He gave me one last admiring glance before leaving.   
I waited until I heard his receding footsteps before charging forward to bolt the door and then back to George. I fell to my knees and dropping the gun untied his arms. The knot was solid and he was tied with a nylon rope, think but strong.  
I expected him to be all over me when I got him loose but instead he backed away.  
“Are you okay? Let me look.” I said, reaching for him but he recoiled.  
“I’m fine, you-” He began and averted his eyes. He pushed himself to a sitting position. “You should put some clothes on.” I grabbed the towel and wrapped it around myself.  
He nodded and tried to get up, I moved to help him but he shook me off.  
“Don’t!” He snapped. He stumbled upright and I stood slowly, leaving my gun at my feet.   
“Its okay, he’s gone.” I said carefully, swiping tendrils of sodden hair out of my face.  
“How could you do that!” He snapped.  
“I did it to save you.” I said levelly. He was looking at my gun. “You knew I carried it.”  
“I know but-” He said through gritted teeth.  
“If I hadn’t he would have killed you and probably me as well.” I reasoned, not whining just speaking clearly.   
“Did you fuck him?” He whispered.  
“What?” I gasped.  
“Did you fuck him?” He shouted this time, taking a quaking step towards me.  
“No.” I replied. “I never-” I began to stutter. “I would never-”  
“You seemed comfortable enough naked in front of him!” He shouted. He still couldn’t meet my eyes. “Is that what you want, another sadistic bastard like your husband?”   
I stopped breathing. I could have sworn my heart stopped beating. My mouth hung open.   
“Go.” He breathed. My brow knotted. “I said get out.” He said more clearly.   
“You don’t mean that, you’re just-”  
“Get Out!” He roared.  
I stood still, my fists clenched. I stooped, picked up the gun and walked back to the bedroom, I pulled on my jeans and blouse. Janked on my boots and shoved the gun in the pocket of my jacket with my keys.  
When i came out he was holding the door open, not looking at me.  
“Please, George. I love you. We can-” I begged.  
“I said out.” He said. I walked out and he closed the door before I could turn around.   
I screamed and kicked the door hard enough to dent it.  
I rode in the elevator, praying it wouldn’t stop and I walked out to find the doorman getting up from the floor. I didn’t spare him a look as I walked straight out into the cold.


	7. A Long night

I started walking, I couldn’t go anywhere. I was sure that the Joker had gone to my place first, likely the police were there already.  
I kept walking for hours. My legs chafing in the damp denim. Cold to the bone. My feet were sore in my boots. I hadn’t put on my socks or underwear. Both my bra and panties were likely still in a pile next to his sofa where we had had sex only hours before.   
My phone was full of messages from Laura, begging me to let her know I was okay. A voicemail from Mr Bates telling me it was better not to come to work and to call him as soon as I could.   
I walked until I could barely stand and then nearly fell into the closest bar. I was near the warehouse district and the bar was covered in emblems for the local football team. I sat at the bar and ordered a vodka.   
I drank it and ordered another.   
Tears didn’t come till the fifth shot. I didn’t make a sound, just hunched over and let the tears flow.   
Three shots later and the bar was full. There was a match on and the TV was blaring. I was jostled now and again but I didn’t care.   
Two more shots and the tears stopped.  
I had just ordered my eleventh drink when someone grabbed my arm.   
“Why’s a pretty girl like you drinking alone?” Said the man. I shook off his grip.  
“Leave me alone.” I hissed.   
He walked away and I heard him call me a bitch.  
I ordered my twelfth shot and the bartender gave me a look that said it would be my last. I nodded and paid. I downed the bitter liquid and stumbled to my feet.   
I bumped into a man nearby and he steadied me.  
“Hey, you okay? Need some company?” He said. His smile looked warped through my burred eyes. I made to move away but he held my arm. “I’m real friendly.” He said when I looked up at him.  
I snarled and drew my gun. He let go and backed off. Everyone backed off.   
I stumbled outside, picked a direction and started walking again. The gun was still in my hand, hanging loosely at my side.   
I kept walking, weaving to and fro on the pavement. I wandered through the warehouses until I reached the docks.  
I sat by the water, my legs dangling over. It was so dark I could barely see.  
I looked that the pistol in my hand, considered it for a while before throwing it into the water.  
I heard him behind me but didn’t turn.  
I tried to stand but stumbled and fell. I landed hard on the concrete and lay on my back looking up at the clouds. I saw a shadow with sharp pointed ears and let myself pass out.

I woke up in a hospital bed. I felt awful and groaned.  
There was a policeman stood over me. I rolled over and went back to sleep.  
Another was there when I woke up again.   
“Miss?” Can you move?” He said kindly. I recognised him. The young earnest cop that came to my apartment.  
I nodded.   
“Miss we need to ask you some questions.” He said, taking out a notepad.  
I sighed and nodded again.  
“Do you know a Mr George Hartson?”  
I nodded. He scribbled.  
“He’s your boyfriend?”  
“Was.” I breathed. He scribbled.  
“And you and he work at a nightclub called Mimic’s?”  
I nodded. He scribbled.  
“You were there when the man known as The Joker, shot two of your coworkers.”  
I nodded. He scribbled.  
“And he came to your boyfriend’s home and threatened you?”  
I nodded. He scribbled.  
“You had a gun yourself and got him to leave?”  
“Yes.” I said, tired of nodding. “Then I left and had a drink.”  
“Why didn’t you call the police?” He asked. I rolled over again.  
“Because he’s the Joker.” I replied and refused to answer him again.  
More police came and went. I answered their questions the same way. Yes, I saw it. Yes, I saw him. Yes, he came. Yes, he left. Yes, I left.  
I found out I was in hospital for alcohol poisoning. My apartment had been broken into but nothing was taken. No one came to get me.  
I paid my bill and got a cab home.  
I walked in and pulled down the police tape. I closed the door and wedged my chair under the handle. I showered and changed my clothes.  
Sitting on my bed I plugged in my phone.  
There was one message from George. It read: ‘Sorry’.  
There was one voicemail from him. It said he’d called the police, given his statement and gone to stay with his parents in Metropolis. He wasn’t coming back. He said ‘sorry’ again.  
I lay back and shut my eyes. I decided that if I were to have an epitaph it would say ‘He was sorry.’  
When I woke up again I looked at the time. I got changed into my work clothes and left.  
I walked to work. It was dark and dead.   
Police tape covered the frontage but there were no signs of any cops around.  
Round back it was the same. I pushed the door and found it unlocked. I ducked under the tape and went inside, closing the door carefully behind me.  
Using the torch on my phone I navigated the familiar rooms until I was out into the cavernous dark of the club.   
Markings on the floor glowed in the weak light my phone gave off. Numbered markers over spots of blood. There’s a footprint, mine.  
I walk to the bar and slip behind it, the broken glass tingles loudly in the dark.  
I grab the shotgun that's still under the bar, glad the police hadn’t found it, by the looks of it they didn’t even go behind the bar at all. As an afterthought I snatch a bottle of vodka and tuck it under my arm. I pause again and grab the bourbon too.  
I cross the wide space again, absentmindedly stepping inside the outlines that used to be people. I go into the back rooms again and into Mr Bate’s office. I sat behind the desk and winched at the squeak while I settled. I checked, the gun was loaded. I put it and the bottles on the desk in front of me.  
I turned off my phone light and opened one of the bottles at random. I took a big swig and groaned at the burn of it. Bourbon.  
My stomach cramped and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten anything.   
I leant back in the chair and drank in the dark. The room had been searched by the cops of course, all the cabinets were open. I opened one of the drawers and felt around. Pens, paper and a letter opener. I palmed the dull blade and slid it into my pocket.  
I opened another drawer and found it empty.  
Opened the last one and all there was inside as a cigarette packet. I picked it up and held it to my nose. The smell of tobacco filled my head and dragged memories to the surface.  
Marlon. I smoked when we met. He lit my cigarette with a silver lighter and our eyes met over the flame.  
I opened the pack and felt two cylinders still there and a disposable lighter in there with them. I smiled, that's what I used to do.  
I pulled out the lighter and gave it an experimental flick. Sparks flew brightly and a little flame caught. I drew out a cigarette and put it to my lips, leaning over the little light I took a deep pull and my lungs filled with illicit smoke. Putting down the lighter I blew out a plume of smoke, my first in seven years.   
I took another mouthful from the bottle and relished the joined tastes in my mouth. I remembered the life I’d had. Bars and music and life. I was untamed then. A wild woman.  
Then he took it all away. I remembered the first time he smiled at me. The first time we kissed the first time we made love (in the back of his car). Our wedding in a casino chapel. The first time he hit me.   
I let my life flow out before me. I was so lost in my own mind that I didn’t notice the tears flowing or how much I drank.  
I must have passed out because I came to at the sound of the door to the club opening, light in the hallway and voices.  
I grabbed the shotgun and hid under the desk. I hadn’t wanted to be found, at least not yet.  
“Think there’s anyone home?” Came a voice. A man by the sounds of it.  
“Nah the tape wasn’t ripped.” A reply. I heard footsteps, too many for just two.  
They passed the office and i heard the door to the main club open and shut. I crouched there for a long time. Thinking until curiosity got the better of me.  
I crept to the hall and tried to move silently to the door, there was light seeping through from under it and I pushed it slightly, just enough to see through the crack.   
There were several men in the gloom with large bright torches. One was behind the bar and seemed to be pulling out all the beers. Others were peering around and two men and a woman were on their knees facing me. They had black bags over their heads.  
Another in a strange suit had sat in one of the chairs. In the odd light he was monstrous. One half of him was normal, a handsome face with thick black hair, greying at the temple. The other half was a sagging hairless ruin. I knew who he was.   
He was talking but I couldn’t hear well, I leant closer to the gap.  
“- won’t be found for a long time.” He said. One of the men handed him a glass and he drank deeply. “Take off the bags.” He ordered and one of the men stood behind the kneeling men and took off the bags. I had to stop myself from gasping from swearing.  
One was Frost, he had been beaten up pretty badly. His face was swollen and his suit torn. He was nodding, unable to raise his head. The woman was Miss Goldie, she was crying I could see her body shaking with each sob. Her long red dress was twisted and her lip was swollen. The other was him.  
He was smirking, as always but a cut in his forehead had bled over his pale face. His paint was smeared and his red shirt was open showing darkening bruises on his ribs.   
“Gotta hand it to ya, Harv.” He said. “You got the drop on me.”   
Two-face rose and drew a gun from inside his bi-coloured jacket. It was long and I realised there was a silencer on it. My stomach tightened.  
I should go, call the police. I should go. I moved to leave when the hard barrel of a gun was pushed into my spine.  
“Drop it.” Hissed a voice behind me and I let go of the shotgun. I felt them pick it up. “Move.” He said and I pushed through the door with my hands in front of me.  
Torchlight caught me in the face and I winced.  
“Found this bitch in the hall, boss.” Said my captur who spurred me towards the monstrous former attorney. He crossed his arms and raised his remaining eyebrow. A hand clamped on my shoulder and forced me to my knees.  
The gun moved to push into the back of my skull.  
“Whatcha doing here girlie?” The gunman asked. I looked at the other captives. Goldie was looking at me like a lifeline and The Joker simply looked amused.   
“Just looking for something worth stealing.” I lied.   
“I know her.” piped up another who shone the torch in my face again. “She’s that barmaid that got the drop on Chaz.”  
I swore inwardly.  
“Really?” Said Two-face and he sauntered to me and stooped down. He put his own gun under my chin and raised it so he could look at me.   
“She had this.” The gunman behind me held out my shotgun and Two-face took it and pumped it.  
“What were you doing with this?” He said, his voice was low and charming but I couldn’t see his eyes. I swallowed and he pushed my chin up higher. “Well?”  
“I told you, just looking for something worth taking.” I said through gritted teeth. He regarded me for a moment before standing and nodding his head. A hand grabbed my hair and I let out a shriek as he dragged me to kneel next to The Joker. My shotgun was handed to the gunman who stood next to me.  
“Well you can die with your boss.” Two-face growled.  
Goldie’s sobbing was louder now and seemed to fill the room.  
“Any last words you son-of-a-bitch?” He asked, standing back to take aim at the Joker.  
“Why is a raven like writing desk?” Joker laughed, staring down the deformed crime-lord.  
I acted quickly, I pulled the letter opening from my pocket and plunged it into the foot of the gunman beside me. He howled in pain and dropped my shotgun. I caught it and fired blindly upwards. Blood rained down on me as his head was obliterated. The Joker snatched his gun ashe fell and shot each of the men around us, cackling while Two face yelled.  
Goldie took off running but was shot in the back of the leg and fell face first screaming into the floor. Johnny slumped forward while the Joker stood triumphant.  
With most of his men dead or dying Two-face stood alone in a stand-off with the Joker. I managed to turn and point my gun at him as well from the floor and he fled.   
The Joker fired but the shot went wild. He was out the door and running before we could stop him.   
I crawled over to Frost and felt for a pulse, it was strong and he groaned when I touched him. The clown was kicking and firing into the prone bodies of the men.  
I managed to get up and stiffly move to where Goldie lay screaming and crying. THe round had gone into the back of her left leg. I tried to speak to her but she just kept screaming.  
“Goldie?” I said and she shook her head, eyes scrunched closed. I said her name again louder but she kept sobbing and swatted an arm at me. I grabbed her hair and lifted her head, shaking her. “Its me! I have to bind your leg, can you move?” I growled through gritted teeth. She opened her eyes and looked at me. She looked even more terrified but nodded.  
I tore a strip from her dress and bound the wound. My hands were shaking and I could hear my own heart beating in my ears.  
I lifted her to her feet and sat her carefully on a nearby chair. She’s started crying again but more softly. I tried to move away but she grabbed at me. I detached myself carefully.  
The Joker was stood laughing to himself over the bullet riddled body of one of the men.  
“We need to get out of here.” I said. He ignored me. “Do you hear me? We need to go before someone comes.” He kept laughing sho I pumped the shotgun and pointed it at him. “Look at me!” I growled and he finally took notice. “We need to get somewhere safe.” I said slowly and he nodded, smile falling from his face. He pulled Frost upright with an arm around his neck and I did the same with Goldie. We walked them out and Joker pointed out a large SUV parked nearby. He smashed the window and let us in. We put the two casualties in the back and I climbed in next to him as he wordlessly hotwired the car and drove away.   
I clutched the shotgun in my lap like a cherished toy and watched the streetlamps as we drove. I caught sight of my reflection and recoiled. I was covered in blood. I’d opted for a tank top again and every inch of skin was splattered with it.   
I noted we were moving towards the outskirts of the city where the houses were larger and further apart. He drove without speaking, his eyes intent on the road ahead. I could see his jaw clench.  
Eventually he turned into the driveway of a large, slightly dilapidated mansion. He drive into the large garage and turned off the engine. The door to the house burt ope and several heavily armed men stormed out only to calm when they saw their boss.  
He stormed inside while I helped them unload Frost and Goldie. They carried them inside with reassurances that they would be looked at. If any of them cared that I still held the shotgun they didn’t mention it.   
I stood in the cold garage and considered just walking out. I must have stood still too long as one of the men took my arm gently and led me inside.  
The former opulence of the place had long since been ruined. Graffiti covered the walls and the furniture was ripped and defaced. I was deposited in a large armchair by the stairs where I sat motionless. The man who led me in crouched down and looked into my face.  
“They’re going to be okay. The boss he-” He tailed off and I heard a gunshot from deeper inside the building. “He don’t wanna see anyone right now. There’s a bed you can use.” I nodded. “Do you want a drink?” He asked and I nodded. He disappeared and returned with a cold beer. I took it in one shaking hand and took a long drink from it.   
A man in a doctors coat appeared after a bit and gently wiped away a lot of the blood.  
“You’re okay.” He said when he noted none of it was mine. I nodded and he left.  
I was led to a small bedroom that only held a mattress with a blanket. It had a little bathroom attached and I was handed a towel before the man left. I heard a key turn in the lock.  
I showered dumbly, watching the blood and visira run down the drain. Luckily the mirror was broken. I dried myself with shaking hands and pulled my panties back on.   
I climbed under the musty smelling blanket and after a moment pulled the shotgun in beside me. I lay there for a long time filling my lungs with the smell of cordite and woodrot before relenting and falling asleep.


	8. Rewind

I had no idea what time it was when I regained consciousness. I took in my surroundings from the bed. The room had once been beautiful but the floral wallpaper had mostly been torn away to make room for more lewd graffiti. The windows were boarded and I saw a little light seeping between the irregular slats.   
Wrapping the blanket around myself but still clutching the shotgun I padded to the door and knocked. After a moment it was opened by a man I hadn’t met who looked me up and down in surprise. I stepped back and asked for some clothes.  
He nodded and relocked the door. He returned a few minutes later with some drawstring sweatpants and a blue striped mens shirt. I took them and he locked the door again. I drank some water from the sink and dressed in the strange clothes, trying not to look at the blood crusted pile of my own clothing. I considered pulling on the bra but noted a huge clot of something had attached to one cup and thought better of it.  
I sat on the mattress cross legged and tried to examine myself. The ache in my arms was familiar from the last time I’d fired the gun. I was dehydrated and hungover, I swayed when I stood and my hair was lank due to washing it with hand soap the night before.   
The door opened again and the man was there.   
“The boss want to see you.” He said and stood aside. I slowly walked out and he led me through the halls to a large office. The grafitti was present here as well but was composed wholly of ‘Ha! Ha! Ha!’ over and over in different colours, overlapping and jagged.  
The desk was huge and pitted with one huge knife embedded deeply in the once fine surface.There were various chairs pushed against the walls and behind the desk was a stack of TV screens showing footage from various places in grainy black and white. One one screen was an image of me lounging in Mr Bate’s office, smoking and periodically taking swigs from a bottle. The Joker was sat enraptured by the footage, he was dressed in black slacks but no shirt. A harness at on his shoulders and one huge handgun hung at his side from it. His hair was slicked back and the bruising from the night before didn’t look too bad.  
I looked at his tattoos which were the scrawlings of a madman. He was lounging back in the grand leather chair.  
I was left alone with him and swayed lightly on my feet, the shotgun hanging limply from my left hand.  
The footage switched to an overhead view of the club and I watched a grainy version of myself get dragged beside him. Watched as I took a man’s life and allowed Joker to take more.   
“Beautiful.” He whispered and I looked into his face. I swallowed and he turned his eyes to me, not moving.  
“How are Frost and Miss Goldie?” I asked, my voice horse.  
He turned and leant his elbows on the desk, cradling his head with both hands. He took in my disheveled appearance, my weakened state.  
“They’ll heal.” He said at last. And I nodded, a knot in my stomach I didn’t know I had, eased slightly. I nodded. He pointed one long digit at me.   
“I’m fine.” I lied.   
“You weren’t stealing.” He sang softly. I tried to stare him down but I was too drained. I shook my head. “Why were you there?”  
“Does it matter?” I reply.   
He stands and moves slowly round the desk. My grip on the shotgun tightens but I doubt i can lift it.  
“Waiting? No.” He started circling me. “Guarding? No. Lost? No.” He stopped in front of me and raised my arm with the shotgun. “You wanted this.” I nod and he lets go. “You have a gun.” I shake my head and he peers into my face.  
“Its at the bottom of the harbour.” I tell him and he starts laughing. He backs away to lean back over his desk.   
“Why?” He keens.  
“Didn’t want your gun.” I reply and he points at the shotgun.  
“Mine too.” He says and I let go. It thuds to the floor and he snatches it up. He looks it over, checks that its loaded then tosses it aside. It fires as it hits the floor, peppering the wall. I gasp at the sound and my legs give way.   
He scoops me up and carries me to the desk, sits me in his lap in front of the screens. My legs lie across his with my head against his left shoulder. His arm is around my waist, not tightly but firm enough that I know I can’t move.  
He rewinds the tape and the screen returns to me behind another desk.   
“Why were you there, little mouse?” He breathes in my ear. I watch a loop again my eyes blinking slowly. “Why did you want the gun?” He breathes as we watch Goldie fall and Two-face flee.  
“I wanted…” I start and he rewinds the tape again.  
“Hmmmm?” He humms.  
“I wanted to die.” I admit and turn my face to his, he looks blank. I see the reflection of the screens in his eyes as he looks at me.  
“Why?” He says.  
“Broken.” I manage. His eyes roam over me as if looking for a crack or missing piece.  
“I broke you?” He whispers.  
“Not you.” I reply, my eyes closing.   
“Who?” he asks and uses his other hand to lift my face to his again. I don’t open my eyes.  
“Broken toy, got my wish.” I say and his arms tense. He remembers now.  
“You got what you wanted for christmas?” He said and I manage to open my eyes and nod slightly.   
“I asked pretty pretty pretty…”  
“Please.” He finished and I touched my fingers to his lips. His eyes grew dark and I couldn’t think. I leant forward and touched my lips to his. The kiss was brief and I sat back. I could feel his heart beating against me, he looked shocked.   
He turned back the screens and watched again as I stabbed the letter opener into the thugs foot. I watched with him and noticed as his grip on me grew harder.   
“Even.” I breathed.

He sent me back to the room and I was given some fast food to eat. I ate and drank and slept again.  
I woke to more food and some clean clothes in my size.  
I ate and dressed and tried to stretch my aching muscles.  
I slept again. I got the feeling that there was a camera somewhere in the room but didn’t care. I lost track of the time but each time I woke up I felt more myself.  
The door opened again and a familiar face peered in, It was Frost. I smiled at him as he stepped in. He was limping and his face was terribly bruised but he smiled back. He rubbed the back of his neck as I stood up. I was wearing dark linen trousers and a white vest and was happy I no longer felt lightheaded when i stood.  
“Hey, I found out what happened and I wanted to say thanks.” He said.   
“Its okay.” I say, my voice is clearer. “How is Miss Goldie?”  
“She’s healing. The boss just went to see her.” I nod and he beckons me. I follow him out. “You don’t have to stay locked up in there anymore. The boss said to move you to a better room and not lock you in.” He led me down the hall and I noted that he was flushed, I wondered if he was in pain.  
I heard shouting from another hall, a female voice. I bit my lip not wanting an explanation. We walked up some stairs and down a hall to a pair of double doors. Frost pushed them open and I followed him inside.   
The room was surprisingly well furnished. There was a huge, comfortable-looking bed pushed against the emerald painted wall and several pieces in dark wood. I spotted a luxurious en-suite in black and gold with a recessed bathtub that looked big enough for a whole football team. Frost pointed to another door.  
“There’s some clothes for you in there.” He explained. I was taken aback by the sudden luxury but I was wary.  
The shouting from the distance was louder and we both reacted when we heard a gunshot. We looked at each other and took off towards it. He limped along beside me, leading the way through winding corridors until we saw what was causing the ruckus.  
Goldie was stood with The joker pinned against the wall with a large golden gun. She wore a hospital style gown and I could see the dressings around her leg. Her long blonde hair was lank and she wasn’t wearing any underwear.  
The gun was pressed to The Joker’s cheek and he grinned at her with his head turned painfully to the side.   
“You fucking bastard!” She screamed at him as we approached. “No one drops me!”   
Frost drew his own weapon and pointed it at her.  
“Miss Goldie back off now.” He said calmly.   
“Hello Frost, how nice of you to join us.” The clown said cheerfully. I heard a groan and saw one of his men lying on the floor clutching his stomach as blood oozed between his fingers.   
“This fucker just told me to get out!” Goldie screeched and I winced at it.   
“Miss Goldie.” I said and she looked at me over her shoulder.  
“He just told me to get out!” She repeated. I raised my hands.  
“I get that. He’s a bastard.” I agreed and she nodded. “But you gotta let him go. They’ll kill you if you shoot him.” She seemed to notice Frost for the first time and I heard running footsteps getting closer.  
“But-” She started  
“Just lower the gun and start walking. They won’t stop you. Just walk and get in a car and drive.” I said and she nodded. “He’s not worth it.” I finished and she lowered the gun and stepped back.  
Her foot lashed out and he doubled over, laughing as she stalked away.  
The rest of his men arrived and he picked himself up straightening his shirt. He turned and his gaze fell on me. I couldn’t read his face.  
Frost pulled me back and led me to the room again and left me there.   
I tried to distract myself by looking through the room. The drawers mostly contained knives and guns. The bed was soft and the sheets were black silk, I raised an eyebrow at that as I’d only ever really had cotton.  
The bathroom had every luxury and I noted that the huge bathtub had a set of controls, it was a hot tub of sorts. I’d started to become suspicious when I opened the closet to find dozens of mens shirts hung up. This was his room.  
I closed the door and was about to turn and leave when I saw him stood leaning on the doorframe.  
“Like what you see?” he asked, grinning widely.  
“You always replace girls this fast?” I replied crossing my arms. “I’m not staying here.”  
His grin fell and he started towards me.   
“Oh really?” He said, a slight growl in his voice. “Do I have to tie you up?” The promise in his voice made my blood heat up but I shook myself.  
“You just threw Goldie out. I watched you-” I swallowed. “I watched you kill Tina. I won’t be treated like that.” I make to walk past him and he grabs my arm.  
“Maybe I’m not giving you a choice?” He purred, pulling me closer.  
“Then you’d better kill me or I’ll kill you while you sleep.” I hiss at him and he starts laughing but he lets me go.   
I leave and storm to the garage. One or two of his men have followed seemingly out of curiosity.   
“It out of here.” I say to them. “Give me a car or call a cab I don’t care.”  
One pulls a set of keys out and hands them to me pointing at a car near the entrance. I take it and nod my thanks.  
Its just a plain black hatchback and luckily it's got most of a tank of gas left. I roar out of the garage and head back towards the city.   
My plan, such as it was, was to head back to my apartment and pack a bag. I figured that I would head north or maybe to Rapid City. I had enough money in the bank to start again. I’d change my name and get a new job. Put this bloody place behind me.  
It was nearly midnight when I pulled up outside and headed up. I remembered at the last minute that I didn’t have any keys but realised that of course the lock had been broken a few days before. I pushed open the door and saw evidence the police had been there again. I clenched my jaw and pulled out the largest bag I had and started throwing clothes into it as fast as I could. I came across a framed photo of me and George and smashed it against the wall.  
By the time I left with the overstuffed gym bag over my shoulder I knew that my neighbours were suspicious. I stomped down the stairs and threw the bag into the backseat of the car.   
I left rubber on the road as I left, anger spurring me on.  
I kept driving and soon the city gave way to suburbs and then to fields. I began to calm when I saw headlights in the rearview mirror. I tried to tell myself it was nothing as they came closer and closer.


	9. Cat and mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so from here on out the story will contain Smut. I try not to be gratuitous but hey it works with the story.
> 
> Beware suicide triggers as well.

I swore as it came close enough to see. It was a sportscar, purple and shining. I could hear the engine and I started to speed up. Pushing the car as fast as it could go, but the other car was faster. My knuckles were white as I gripped the wheel, urging it to go faster.   
There was a turn in the road and i lost control, spinning out into a field.  
I tired to restart the car but it sputtered and died. I screamed and got out.   
The purple car had parked up and he stood, leaning against it casually.  
I took off running in the opposite direction. I pushed through some bushes and into the trees. The ground was rising ahead of me and I realised I was at a lookout point that, at the top, you could see all of Gotham.  
I was panting and pushing myself to climb.   
I heard rusling behind me then a laugh and I sped up. By the time I broke through the treeline to the picnic area at the top I was nearly sobbing. I slid on the damp grass and turned to see him walk out into the moonlight.   
He was shirtless again but had a long shining pistol in his hand.   
I scrambled to my feet and backed away from him.  
“Oooooooo this is fun!” He laughed, walking leoninely towards me, his pale skin glowing in the darkness. “Looks like I caught you little mouse.”  
“Leave me alone!” I yelled and backed up further. He kept coming and I backed up into the guardrail over the steep drop.  
“Why? Don’t you like this game?” He smiled coming closer.  
“I won’t be your plaything!” I hissed and he pointed the gun at me. I didn’t hesitate and ducked under the rail, inches from nothing.   
“No fair.” He pouted and stopped in his tracks. I looked over my shoulder. The view was beautiful. The city sparkled in the dark and the moon lit up the trees like a storybook enchanted forest. The drop was at least a hundred foot.  
I turned back to him and he regarded me from a few steps away.   
“Fine.” He growled and put the gun to his temple. “I can play that way too.”  
I shook my head at him.  
“You won’t.” I said quietly. He regarded me cooly.  
“Neither will you.” he accused.  
“Already did. No Superman to save me now.” I reply and his eyes go wide. He cocks the gun and I swallow. “Stop.” I croak and he smiles at me.  
“Any words for the dead man?” He asks. I open my mouth but no words come out.  
He closes his eyes and draws in one deep breath. I duck under the rail and tackle him. He pulls the trigger as we fall but it fires impotantly into the woods.  
I straddle him, pinning his arms at either side of his head. He smiles up at me and I pull back, hands on my face.  
“Are you Superman?” He says with mock admiration and I slap him as hard as I can muster.   
He laughs wildly and I slap him again and again until my hand is numb.   
I’m crying and stop to stifle my sobs.   
“You bastard.” I breathe and climb off him. I step back and close my eyes, shaking my head in disbelief.   
I hear him stand and feel him come close.  
“Has the mouse gotten tired of this game?” He says and my eyes fly open. I lash out to slap him again but he catches my hand. He slides his other arm around me and leans close. “I can think of a better one.”  
I look into his face. Adrenaline pumping through my body I wrap my arm around his neck and kiss him with everything I have. Fear and lust collide as I melt into him. His tongue dances with mine and I’m filled with the taste of him. My tears mingle with sweat and his hands roam my body.   
He roughly lifts one of my legs to grid into me as one of his hans finds my breast. I gasp as he pushes himself against me. He kicks my foot out and I fall back, the air knocked from my lungs as he lands on me and pushes my legs apart, pinning me to the wet grass with his weight.   
He runs his tongue down my throat and pushes my vest up rudely. His silver capped teeth nip at my breasts and I groan at the feel of him. His arousal is growing against me and he pushes against my core insistently.   
He growls and begins to tug at the waistband of my trousers and his lips leave me only for a second so he can drag them off, freeing my hips. He pushes my panties aside and moans as he feels how slick I’ve become. I twine my hand in his green hair and roughly pull his head back to mine to kiss him roughly, grabbing at his back while his fingers explore me. I lift my hips and pant as he finds the bundle of nerves begging for him and I feel him grin against me.   
With one hand at my breast and the other circling my core I writhe against him. His hand leaves my slick flds for a moment and I whine softly. I hear his zipper go and feel his hardness suddenly pressing against my lips. I lift my hips again but he lowers his lips to my throat, biting lightly.  
“Tell me what you want.” He growls against me, pressing harder but not hard enough to enter. I mutter and try to push against him. He twists a hand in my hair the other braising my hips to keep them still and he pushes his forehead against mine, his eyes blazing. “Tell me!” He growls. “Pretty Pretty Pretty.” His lips flutter over mine.  
“Please!” I cry out and his hip come crashing down and he fills me up. “Fuck!” I gasp and he groans, his hips snapping into mine as he starts a relentless rhythm.   
He grabs my hips and raises them filling me more and hitting that magnificent spot inside that made me cry out with the feel of him.   
I moans and his pace quickens, I see stars as he slams into me again and again. My nails dig into his back as suddenly a wave of euphoric pleasure crashes over me. I shudder and he gasps into my shoulder and I feel him tense as he finds his own release.   
He groans as he pushes up on one arm to look at me. His other hand runs over my swollen lips and he takes in my blown pupils and flushed skin.  
“Now wasn’t that a better game?” He whispers hotly.  
I swallow and nod.  
He lets me put on my trousers again but insists on exploring my breasts in the moonlight for a while longer.   
After he’s had his fill he takes me by the hand and leads me back through the woods to the cars. He drags my bag out of the black car and throws it into the purple sports car and pushes me into the passenger seat.  
He drives back to his mansion in silence. Once there he pulls me out of the car and preses me against it kissing me roughly and kneading my backside hard enough to hurt.  
“Boss?” Asks one of his men from the doorway but he bolts when The Joker draws his gun on him.   
He takes my arm again and pulls me through the house into his bedroom. In the light I realise we’re both covered in mud and my hair is full of grass. He doesn’t care as he throws me bodily onto the bed and crawls over me. He soon has me gasping again and he parts me knees to press against my still wet core.   
Suddenly he lifts off and pushed me to my feet in front of him. He sits on the edge of the bed, his erection straining against his strained trousers.   
“Off.” He grunts and i start to pull off my top. “Slower.” He purrs and I take my time pulling off my top and hooking my thumbs into the top of my trousers and panties, pulling them down slowly. He groans in appreciation and I realise as I stand that there’s a mirror behind me, he could see everything.   
I bite my lip, suddenly unsure and he reaches for me. I step closer but pull him up.   
“Your turn” I breathe and he laughs, pushing me down to lie on the bed to watch him remove his few clothes. He doesn’t wear underwear it seems and soon he’s stood in his full glory before me. I edge back on the bed and he stalks to me palming his erection and ragging me back by one ankle. He pulls me to the edge of the bed and I slide easily over the silk as he lowers himself over me. I wrap my legs around his hips as he glides his tongue along my jaw. His lips meet mine as he enters me and I gasp into his mouth.   
He thrusts into me and I claw at his back. He wriggles one arm under me to lift my hips higher. He stands and looks down at me as he moves. I grip the sheets and look up at him as he moves and I tentatively slide one hand over my own breast.  
He licks his lips in appreciation and I begin to play wit them with both hands, pulling gently on my nipples and gasping as he grinds his hips against mine.   
He falls forward and quickened his pace again, suddenly biting hard into my shoulder. Pain mixes with pleasure and I crash over the edge unable to stop myself from screaming. He clutches at the sheets and I feel him come with me.  
We pant as he relaxes on top of me. He stands and withdraws from my body, roughly flipping me onto my stomach. Leaning against me again he wraps his arms around my waist. Pushing against me in a promise of more before dragging me up to the head of the bed and pulling the blankets over us.


	10. Jazz and liqueur

I wake the next day wrapped in his arms. He grunts in protest as I get up and totter to the bathroom.   
When I return he’s up and running a comb through his hair. His eyes fix on me and he twirls his finger. I turn around and he makes an appreciative noise.  
He disappears into the bathroom himself for a while then emerges and picks out a shirt and pants from the closet. I watch him from the bed, touching the bite on my neck gingerly. He dresses, only fastening the first few buttons on his shirt and shrugging on the hoster for his pistol.  
He notices me touching the small wound and grins.  
“I guess I’m your chew toy now.” I say, smiling cautiously. He growls and comes over leaning over to kiss me hard.  
“The house is yours. Be back later.” He says as he breaks away. He gives me one last look before leaving.  
I’m cold as he leaves. The full weight of the night before hits me and I twist the silk blanket in my hands.  
I get up and return to the bathroom. I stand under the shower for a long while washing my hair and trying to massage away the aches in my shoulders. There are bruises on my hips and there is no hiding the red bite on my shoulder.  
I look through the closet after I’m dry and find that there are some clothes in there for me. I pull on some jeans and a dark green knit jumper and go in search of food.  
I meet one of his men in the hallway and he admits that they don’t really have a kitchen but offers to go and get some breakfast for me. My stomach growls and I tell him what I want.  
I start exploring the house. Many of the rooms are derelict but I find a few that are in use. There is a large room with several plush sofas and a huge television and another with a pool table and a bar.  
I settle in the TV room and turn on the news. I curl up on a loveseat and take in what’s been happening while I fought my own battles.   
The man returns with me food and I thank him, he blushes slightly and I ask his name. He’s Mac. He’s tall with wide shoulders and a thin waist and dark blonde hair carefully combed.  
He shows me how to find the channels on the TV then leaves me alone.   
I switch to a movie after a while and every so often one of the men comes in to ask if I want anything. One tells me they moved my bag to The Jokers room, I notice its the one who interrupted us last night and apologise for having a gun pulled on him. He blushes.  
One even finds my cell phone that I left earlier and brings it to me. I groan that it has little battery and he returns not too much later with a charger.  
There are several messages from Laura. I text her back saying I’m fine.  
There’s a voice mail from George. I sigh before listening to it.  
“Sunshine, I miss you.” He starts and my eyes water a little at his voice. “I’m sorry I was scared and you were so… Anyway I wish you’d call. Let me know you’re alright. That that monster hasn’t gotten to you.” I close my eyes and lean back. He got to me alright. “I love you.”  
An impulse strikes and i press the button to call him.  
“Sunshine is that you!” He picks up on the second ring.  
“Its me.” I reply.  
“Thank god you’re alright!” He says and I smile limply at the phone. “I’m so sorry, I was so scared.” He repeats.  
“Yeah it was pretty scary.”   
“With him bursting in and then you had that gun and you looked like you were going to shoot him and then you-” He blurts.  
“I know.” I stop him.  
“Are you safe?”  
“Yeah, pretty safe.” I look around me and hear footsteps from one of the armed me in the hall.  
“Good, I can come get you. You can stay here in Met with me.” He says and my heart drops.  
“No, you stay there. I’m okay.” I say carefully.  
“But I can get you a new job here, you can work for my Dad’s firm.” He says and I can hear the pride in his voice.  
“No.” I say and i can feel him go cold.  
“Where are you?” He asks.  
“I can’t tell you that.” I reply.  
“You’re with him aren't you?” He asked and I didn’t answer. “I knew it. Dad said you’d cheat on me.”  
“You’re the one who threw me out!” I snap.  
“Good thing I did. Have fun being the devil's slut!” He hung up and I stared at my phone for a moment before flinging it against the wall. It shattered and I started to cry, wrapping my arms around my legs and rocking back and forth. If any of my lover’s men heard me they stayed away.  
I felt the sofa next to me depress and looked up. Frost sat there and picked up the remote to change the channel.  
“Can’t stand that rom-com bullshit.” He said. He leant back and relaxed. His face looked better. “Was that the guy from the club?” He asked and I nodded, wiping my face on my sleeve.  
“He’s an asshole.” I muttered into my legs.  
“Best not mention that to the boss.” He said looking at me pointedly.  
“I won’t. I’d rather shoot him myself.” Frost laughed at that. I realised I’d never seen him laugh. “Shouldn’t you be with him?”  
“Given me some down-time. Can’t move fast enough like this.” He explained, flicking through the channels.  
“He’ll be back in a bit, sent word he wants to take you out. There’s a dress in his room for you.” He settled on some boxing and I stood up. As I turn to leave he raises his hand to get my attention. “He said ‘don’t cover the bite.’” He says raising his eyebrows in question. I pull down the side of the jumpers neck to show him. He blows air out through pursed lips.  
I go back to the room and find the bed has been made and the room cleaned. A long purple dress is laid out on the bed and a pair of heels sit nearby.  
The dress has a plunge neckline and no sleeves, I put it on gingerly and find it falls to just above my ankles. I twist my hair up and find my makeup in the gym bag. I resist the urge to cover the purpling bite mark but hang a long chain around my neck and tiny diamante earrings. I wish I had some pretty underwear to wear under it but a plain black pair have to to do.  
I walk downstairs to wait. He’s at the bottom of the stairs as I reach them. His eyes darken instantly.  
“Am I enough?” I ask without thinking. The men nearby look enraptured but I’m caught by his hot gaze as I descend. He takes my hand as I get close and drags me into his arms to kiss me hard. He’s changed his shirt already to one made from black silk. His chains press into me and swing free as he lets go. I hope my makeup hasn’t smudged.   
He pulls me to the garage and to a long black limo I haven’t seen before. I climbed in and got settled on the seat. I heard him give some last minute orders before climbing in himself and sitting opposite me.  
The limo began to move and in the gloom I could feel his eyes on me.  
“Where are we going?” I asked, nervous. He grinned, his teeth sparkling in the dark.  
“Come here.” He purred and I moved to sit next to him. He held up his hand to stop me and I ended up kneeling in front of him. He reached forward and tilted my chin pulling him between his legs. I had to put my hands on his thighs to brace myself. “We’re going to meet some businessmen.” He said quietly. “Then I’m going to fuck you in this limo.”   
I bit my lip involuntarily at his lewdness. I wasn’t sure what made me more nervous, the meeting or his promise.   
I sat back and he turned his gaze to the window.  
The limo pulled up outside a familiar building. I realised it was the jazz bar George had often taken me to. I was hesitant but took The Joker’s hand as he pulled me from the car.  
We walked in and it was quite different. It seemed to have been closed to the public. There were armed men sat everywhere but they seemed to orbit around a booth near the stage where a beautiful young woman was singing sweetly.   
Joker pulled me to the booth and I had to stop from showing fear as we approached. Sat in the booth in a beautifully tailored suit was the squat figure that could only be Oswald Cobblepot, known by most as The Penguin. There was a gorgeous young woman on either side of him, they seemed to be twins. His features were legendary and he peered down his long sharp nose at me.  
“Evening, Clown.” He greeted. “Who is this loveliness?” I smiled and suppressed the urge to giggle.   
“Hello Birdy. This is my new squeeze. Say hello sweetness.” The joker said theatrically.  
“Good Evening Mr Cobblepot.” I say carefully.  
“At least this one has manners.” He said. Joker made to sit down and the odd little man held up a gloved hand. “Ah! You know the rules. No guns at my table.”  
The joker pouted then made a show of transferring his holster to me, draping it over my arms as if it were a fur coat. The gun was heavy.  
“Beat it ladies, you can all sit and enjoy the entertainment while I talk with the Clown.” He said and the girls kissed him on the cheek and climbed out. They each wore matching black dresses that stopped just shy of showing everything to the world. We sat at a table in front of the singer and three glasses of wine appeared as if my magic.   
“Oh so you’re Jokers new girl.” One of the ladies said. I nodded.  
“I heard he threw out that bitch, Goldie.” The other said.  
“Heard he’s dynamite in bed.”  
“Not as good as our Pengie.”  
“No never.” They giggled and I tried to smile. It was hard to follow them and the gun was digging into my ribs. I wished for my leg holster.  
The singer began again and I turned my attention to her. Her voice was clear as a bell and she sang several of my favorite numbers. I noted the rise and fall of conversation from the booth but tried not to listen. I heard Joker laugh a few times but that could mean anything.  
As the evening drew on I started to feel tired and excused myself to the ladies room. While I was washing my hands I was enjoying a breeze from the small window.  
“How long are they gonna be?” I heard from outside and I froze.  
“Doesn’t matter. We wait until they’re leaving.” Another voice.  
“The bird’s got a lot of backup.” The first voicagain.  
“Nah focus on the bird and the clown. Just plug them and run like hell.”   
I carefully left the ladies room making as little noise as possible.   
I approached the booth, making sure they saw me as I got close.  
“Mr Cobblepot, you have a problem.” I said and he raised a thin eyebrow. I explained what I heard and the Joker laughed while The Penguin went pale. He called over several of his men and sent them round to the alley behind the bar.  
After a few moments we heard distant shouts and a gunshot. One of the men returned and whispered in his boss’s ear. I’d stood awkwardly by the table all that time and felt unbelievably relieved when he nodded at me.  
“Seems I’m in your debt. Well done, Miss” I nodded graciously at him and the Joker beamed at me. I returned to my seat and had to explain to his women what happened. They wanted every detail.   
After a little longer Joker came to the table and I rose carefully. The Penguin was behind him and he bowed minutely to me. His women leapt up to stand at either side of him again, a top hat sat on his head and he clutched the silver handle of one of his infamous umbrellas.  
“That concludes things this evening. Thank you again. If you ever tire of this laughing oaf look me up.” He tapped the brim of his hat.  
As he turned to leave Joker leapt on me and pinned me to the table. He kissed me hard enough to hurt and I had no choice but to grip his shirt to keep my balance. He was marking his territory, not that I didn’t enjoy it. I remembered his promise and felt my cheeks redden as he pulled me upright.  
I saw The Penguin sneer at us as I regained myself. He turned and nearly walked into the barrel of a shotgun that was leveled at him. The world stopped dead and I reached for the gun at my side.  
I aimed and fired even as Cobblepot raised his umbrella. The man fell with a grunt, a sucking wound in his chest before he could even pull the trigger. He looked surprised and the whole room looked at me.   
“Looks like you owe me twice.” I said dreamily as I reupholstered the gun. The Joker laughed hysterically as The Penguin stalked out and his men swarmed the wounded man, dragging him out.  
The Joker led me in a daze to the Limo and I climbed inside to sit with my back to the driver. There was a bottle on ice and I grabbed a handful of cubes to hold against my neck to cool me down. The door was barely shut before he was on me. The ice scattered as he ravaged my lips and my neck. He pulled my dress open and the chain around my neck snapped as he pulled my breasts free. My skirt was pushed up to pool around my hips and before I knew it he was inside me. I gasped and he stopped for a moment to tease my tounge with his. The feel of him in me without moving was infuriating.  
“You did soooooooooooo goooood.” He purred in my ear, grinding his hips into mine teasingly. “Such fire.” He pulled out nearly all the way then plunged back in. He groaned.   
“Please.” I whined pulling against him desperately as he slowly pulled out again. “Please Fuck me.” I whimpered. Lost to the feel of him.   
I felt him grin against me and he hooked one of his arms under my knee, lifting my leg allowing him to push deeper. I moaned loudly, not caring if the driver heard me.   
“Here we go babe.” He muttered and at last started to thrust against me. I gasped and grabbed at him until at last the friction began to build again. I whispered encouragements until my end came and he followed soon after. I sighed and he pulled me onto his lap not caring if our combined love seeped into my dress.


	11. Shop and drop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger: PTSD, domestic violence, implied rape

The next day I woke again in his arms.  
I sat up and reached for my phone but stopped, remembering the day before.  
“Stupid.” I muttered to myself and The Joker muttered beside me.  
I looked down at him. Even in sleep he looked formidable. His rough passion left my body bruised and aching again.   
I slid out of bed and grabbed some clothes before retreating to the bathroom. I washed and looked at myself in the mirror. Once dressed you couldn't see his marks on me but i could feel them.  
I came back and he was still asleep, I had no idea of the time but there was light seeping between the thick curtains. I sat on the bed and touched his face gently.  
“Joker?” I said carefully. He grunted and opened his eyes, blinking unevenly. “I need to go out. I need to get a new phone and some other stuff.”  
He didn’t respond so I moved to leave. His arm whipped out and wrapped around my wrist.  
“I need to go. Let me go.” I said evenly. “I will be back.”  
He grunted and rolled over. I heard him fumbling in the side table drawer. When he rolled back he threw a thick bundle of $100 bills and a small pistol on the bed in front of me.  
He reached up and touched my chin. He looked like he was deciding if I would come back.  
“Take Frost.” He growled and I nodded. I picked up the money and the gun and backed out of the room picking up my sneakers as I left.  
I went down to the TV room and pulled on my shoes, stuffing my pockets with the cash and pushing the gun into the waistband of my jeans. Luckily they were tight enough to hold it and the loose purple sweatshirt I had on hit it well.  
I stopped the first passer by and asked where Frost was. I found him smoking in the Garage.  
“Hey.” I greeted and he looked up at me.  
“Hey, up already? Not even noon yet.” He said, waving smoke away from his face.  
“I gotta go to the mall. Your boss said to take you.” I said.  
“Nah, not me. You’d get too much attention with my face all banged up like this.” He was right, his face looked less swollen but it was still a mass of bruises. He spoke into a radio at his side. Mack appeared at the doorway a moment later.  
“Whats up?” He asked.  
“She needs to go out, take her to the mall and do as she says.” Frost ordered and Mack nodded obediently. He was dressed more casually anyway, leans and a black tee. I was glad as I’d rather not look like I had a bodyguard.  
“This way, miss.” He said and took me over to the black hatchback I’d taken a few nights ago. They must have retrieved it.  
“Be back by sundown.” Warned Frost and I nodded, climbing into the passengers side.  
Mack drove me to the Mall near the centre of town. He didn’t talk to me on the way.  
He pulled into the parking garage and parked up. He cut the engine and turned to me.  
“So what do you need?” He asked.  
“Uhhhh… a new phone and a few clothes.” I said thinking carefully. “Shouldn’t take long.”  
He nodded and got out of the car with me.   
“You don’t need to go around with me.” I said and he gave me a level look. “Okay, maybe you do.”  
He followed me upstairs and I made for the cell phone store. Under the fluorescent lights I noticed how pale I was.  
I’m not too good at technology so let the assistant help me choose something simple on a pay as you go plan. He raised his eyebrow when I paid cash but he didn’t say anything.  
I walked out with the little bag swinging in my hand. Mack took it without asking. I opened my mouth to protest but he gave me another look. I sighed and headed for a shoe store.  
Several shops later and he had a collection of bags.  
“You know I can carry things myself.” I teased and he gave me a wry smile.  
“Not heavy. You’re not spending as much as I thought you would.”  
“Oh?” I said as I made for my last planned stop.  
“Yeah, normally J’s girls spend hundreds. I doubt you’ve broken two.”   
“Go around with his girls a lot do you?” I asked and his blush told me everything I needed to know.  
I stopped in front of the store. He gauped at the lace and silk on display.  
“Maybe you should stay outside this one.” I said, trying not to laugh at his expression. He nodded and motioned to a bench nearby. I wandered into the lingerie store as he settled himself.  
I moved around the store wondering how my new lover would react to me in each set. I sighed to myself and picked up a few simple things. I’d never worn much lace. He hadn’t liked it.  
I stopped myself. I was still living by rules set by a dead man. I looked around at the items on display and something caught my eye. A nightgown in dark blue silk with delicate black lace edging. I touched it and smiled, imagining myself in it.  
“Ooooh George will go mad when he sees you in that!” Came a voice behind me and I span.  
“Laura!” I gasped and hugged the blonde beauty. I noticed what she was wearing when i drew back. “You work here now?”   
“Yup! Gotta do something after the club closed.” She smiled sadly. “Friend of mine is the manager here so got to start quickly.” She reached past me and pulled out one of the nightgowns in what she knew was my size. “You’ve got to buy this. You can use my discount!” She made for the checkouts and I followed in her wake.  
“Thanks but don’t worry, I have enough.” I said and she waved my words away.  
“Not a problem. Like I said George will go mad!”  
“Uh. Me and George… we aren't together anymore.” I admitted and she stopped in her tracks. She turned to look at me. Her big eyes looking sadder than I was.  
“Oh! I’m sorry sweetie.” She looked at the gown. “So who’s this for? Anyone I know?”  
“Kinda.” I said and she perked up. She continued towing me to the register and rang up my more restrained picks at the same time. I handed her some bills and she put them in the till neatly.  
“So who is it?” She said handing me the pink bag.  
“Ummmm….” I hummed, taking it from her. I felt my face flush.  
“Is it Mr Bates? Or Greg that other bartender?” She started guessing and I felt my face burning.  
“I gotta go. I’ll text you.” I said and turned away.  
Before I could leave I felt her touch my arm and I turned.  
“Honey, it isn’t…” She started and I averted my eyes. “No! You’ve seeing that bastard!” She hissed as if I’d slapped her. I turned to go. She pushed in front of me, her eyes like saucers. ”You have to leave him, he’ll hurt you! I’m pretty sure he killed Tina!”  
I winced and pushed past her.  
“Have you got a death wish!” She hissed.  
“I’ll… I’ll text you okay. See you later.” I muttered and left before she could grab me again.   
Mack stood as I left the store and I hurried away with him behind me.   
I could feel her looking at me.  
“You okay?” He asked as we turned a corner.  
“Mack I need to ask you-” I said softly and he stepped closer to hear me better. He took the pink bag from me and stood waiting. I looked into his big honest face. “How many of his girls end up dead?”  
He stood open mouthed for a moment.  
“You really don’t want me to answer that.” He said and I believed him. “Do you need anything else, or did you want to grab some food?” He said, desperate to change the subject. My stomach growled and I smiled.  
“I guess I do.”   
We grabbed some burgers from a fast food place and Mack distracted me by telling stories about his brothers. Turned out he came from a big family.   
By the time we returned to the car I felt better but couldn’t ignore the knot in my stomach. 

It was late afternoon by the time we got back and I took my purchases up to the room. The Joker was in his office apparently and the room had been cleaned.  
I pulled the gun out of my waistband, it had been digging into me and I was glad to put it away. I put the remaining money on his side table and weighed it down with the pistol.  
I started to put away my purchases and held up the nightgown to admire again.  
“Mack tells me you were pretty restrained.” Said a voice behind me making me yelp and stuff the illicit thing into a drawer.  
Frost was laughing from the doorway.  
“You bastard, ever heard of knocking.” I grumbled.  
“Door was open.” He said, grinning. I scooped up the bag with my new phone in and started to take it out of its box. I’d retrieve my sim from the wreckage of the old one so at least I wouldn’t have to change my number.  
“What do you want?” I said not looking up.  
“You can spend all you want, you know?” He said, ignoring my question. “First time Goldie went out she spent three grand on a pair of shoes!” He laughed. “Pretty sure I never saw her wear them.”  
“I’m not Goldie.” I growled and I saw him smiling again.   
“I guess not. Anyway the boss sent me to come get you.”  
I sigh and get up to follow him out. I can’t help but feel conflicted, every time I was with him I ended up doing something… wrong. I felt odd, like the lives I’d taken should have weighed on me more. I couldn’t help but wonder about Laura’s accusation.   
I knocked on the office door but there was no answer. I raised an eyebrow at Frost but he motioned for me to go in.  
The room looked just the same only the Joker was facing me as I entered this time.   
“Hi.” I said uncertainly and he followed me with his eyes as I walked to stand in front of him.  
“Have fun?” He muttered. He was sat back in the big leather chair. THe lights were on this time and the brash colours on the walls almost hurt my eyes.   
“Yes, thank you.” I replied. He lifted a small box from his side onto the desk and waved a hand over it like it was magic.  
“For you.” He said and I stepped forward.  
“Thank you?” I said and he pushed it towards me. I reached out but hesitated looking at him carefully. He was watching me as if I might bolt or explode.  
I lifted the smallest and feigned a smile.  
“May I?” I asked and he raise a brow at me, the tattoo on his forehead twisting with the movement. He nodded, his face passive.  
I opened the little box and gasped. Inside was a necklace, twenty glittering diamonds set in gold. I’d never held something so ornate. It wasn’t me.  
“It’s lovely.” I said trying to sound sincere. His eyes narrowed he wasn’t buying it. “It is! I just, I’ve never worn anything like this.” I put the box down.  
“You don’t like it?” He purred and I tried to smile.  
“I do, it’s just-” I started raising my hands up defensively. I gave up and closed my eyes. “I’m sorry I just-”  
He stood and walked around the desk to stand in front of me.   
“If you don’t like it, just say.” He said softly, leaning close.  
“I don’t like it.” I said, taking a half step backwards.  
“What would you prefer?” He said following me.  
“Nothing!” I squeaked keeping my hands raised. “You don’t have to give me anything!” I backed up again and again but he kept following, I was quickly backed against the wall. He casually leant a forearm above my head and peered into my eyes. I bit my lip nervously and he tucked a croked finger under my chin to raise my face to his.  
“Nothing?” He whispered. I shook my head.  
“Nope, I’m fine.” I blurted out. “I should go. You’re probably busy.” I regretted my shopping trip. “I’ll pay you back for the stuff I bought.” I said and he looked puzzled again. “I don’t want anything. Please, I should go.” I tried to sidle away but he slid his hand down and around my throat.  
I froze, panic rising. A hundred awful memories crashed to the surface, a different face eclipsed the one in front of me. Larger hands and darker eyes. I struggled and out of reflex he tightened his grip.  
I flattened myself against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut and reciting old prayers in my head. I turned my face defensively and felt hot tears sting my cheeks.  
“No! Please!” I whispered desperately. I was shaking and trying not to sob. He didn’t like the sound of my voice, especially when I cried.  
The Joker released his hold on me and I collapsed. I curled up and held my knees tight as he stood back to watch me, shocked. I looked up and saw him looking at me and I bolted.   
I tore the door open and ran through the halls until I burst out of the back door into the unkempt garden.   
I crawled under a bush and curled up as small as I could, stifling my hard breathing and trying to stay still and quiet.  
A moment later he came out of the door, looking around for me. His eyes searched the growing shadows and I was sure he’d find me. He returned to the house and I stayed where I was until I stopped shaking.  
“He’s dead.” I whispered. Repeating it to myself and trying to resurrect the image of him lying still on our living room floor. The anger I felt when I found out about his lies. The relief that he wouldn’t hurt me again. But it was a long while before I crawled out of the dark.   
I walked back inside and tried to move silently towards the front door. I had to leave, had to go. Now Joker knew how broken I was he’d discard me, I was sure of it. Maybe I could steal a car from the garage. No he followed last time, better to slip away and hole up somewhere.  
I peered around corners and slid through the house carefully, hiding in a darkened room when frantic feet came close.  
“Where is she!” a demand from nearby.  
“No idea. You sure she’s here?”   
“Find her!” A growl and I heard the feet hurry away.  
The room I was in was cold, the broken boarded window was no protection from the chill outside. I was shivering, the adrenaline leaving my system. The door slammed open and a silhouette called out:  
“Found her!” I charged forward and ducked under his arm. I ran for the front door but a figure pounced from the doorway and pinned me against the wall. I shrieked and punched out at it and was knocked to the floor.  
“Whoa!” I looked up to see men all around and the Joker reeling from the hit I’d landed on his jaw. He looked down at me and his gaze was icy. I tried to crawl away but one of the men grabbed me and dragged me to my feet.  
“I’m sorry!” I gasped as he stalked closer and grabbed my arm. I resisted and he pulled out his gun on me. I relented then and he dragged me up to his room and tossed me inside before stepping in and closing the door behind him.   
I lay on the floor and tried to push away from him with my feet with my arms raised.  
“Now,” He started pulling back the hammer on the gun. “Explain.” He said and I swallowed hard.  
“I’m sorry I just-” I stuttered and tried to push farther away. “I can’t control myself if someone grabs my neck. I- He-” I try and he steps closer not lowering the gun. “He used to choke me while he hit me while he cut me while he-” I stopped myself but he understood.  
“I’ll leave. It’s not your problem. I’ll leave.” I looked at the gun. “Or shoot me, it’s okay. I deserve it.”  
“This.” He waved the gun. “Doesn’t scare you?”   
“No.” I said. “Or knives or bombs or- or-” I listed.  
“Just that.” He said, and I nodded. He lowered the gun.  
“I don’t care if you kill me.” I say.  
“But you care if I die.” I says eyes fixed on me.   
“Ummm…” He turns the gun around and puts it to his temple. “Don’t!” I squeak and sit up, reaching out for him. He lowers the gun and stares at me.  
He stands and drops the gun at my feet and leaves, slamming the door behind him. 

I sit on the bed and think for a long time.   
Every time I’d killed I’d done it to protect him. Not myself. Not anyone else. I’d never thought when it happened just acted. I wondered what it meant. Did I love him? I thought about it and what I thought love was and I couldn’t imagine being with him like that. Sex was one thing, but love? No. I don’t think I could love him anymore than he could me.  
I wondered if I was capable of loving someone. I thought I’d loved George but I’d moved on pretty damn fast. The idea of shooting him in the face didn’t appeal as much as I’d thought but nor did I yearn for him like a lovesick puppy.  
Maybe I was right.  
Maybe I was broken.


	12. Standoff

There was a gentle knock at the door and it opened. Mack stood hesitantly in the doorway.   
“Umm… hi.” He said and I looked at him owlishly. “May I come in?” He asked and I nodded slowly.  
He entered with his hands raised sightly and I thought it odd until i realised I still had the gun in my hands.  
I put it down on the bedside table and he seemed to relax. He had a bundle under his arm and he held it out to me.  
I grabbed it and put it on the bed next to me.  
“Uhhhh… the boss wants you to get dressed and wear that. He’ll be up soon.” He said backing out of the room. I nod again.  
When the door closed I opened the bundle. I smiled a little and got up to change.  
I put on tight black trousers and a boat-necked blouse I’d bought that day. It was deep emerald green and hugged my frame closely.  
I buckled on his gift, a new leg holster, and dug through his drawers to find a snub-nosed revolver to fit it.   
I finished the look with a string of black beads and light makeup. My new high heeled boots rose me up a few inches and I let my hair flow down over my back.  
I heard the door open just as I closed the clasp of my necklace and I emerged from the bathroom to see him changing his shirt. He slid into a perfectly white dress shirt and then shrugged his favored double holster onto his shoulders.  
He turned and looked me up and down. He stepped forward and unexpectedly slid his hands around my hips and pulled me close to him.  
“No one touches you but me, understand?” He purred at me. I nodded and raised my face to him. He twitched his lip at me but backed off. I noted a dark spot on his jaw where I’d clocked him earlier.  
He finished buttoning his shirt and ran a comb through his hair before turning to me with one of his trademark grins. “Come on, baby, lets go have some fun!”  
I followed him downstairs and he directed me to his sports car. I climbed in with him and he gunned the engine.  
He set a punishing pase as we left and I wondered how it was that he hadn’t been pulled over ever. Likely the cops around here knew better. I thought of asking where he was taking me but decided to leave it.  
I barely reacted as he tore around cornered and headed for one of the nightclubs along the waterfront. He parked in a dark alley and got out. I followed without prompting and when he held out his arm I slid my own around it.  
The club was pretty new. Gothic themed with deep throbbing guitar humming inside. THe outside was painted black with the name picked out in red neon: ‘Bloodlust’. The Joker walked to the head of the line and I watched the doorman consider us for a second before letting us pass. If the people waiting had an issue they didn’t voice it.  
Inside the music was a wall of sound and my eyes took a moment to adjust as we walked past the mass of bodies writhing to the hard rock sounds. There was a live band playing and everyone was wearing black.   
The club had been made up to look like a victorian boudoir as far as I could tell. Dark wood with red and black motifs everywhere. The staff were dressed like silver screen vampires and the clientele looked much the same.   
The Joker pulled me to the bar area and we took a seat in full view of the bar. He lounged in a padded dining chair that wouldn't have looked out of place in a museum and I perched next to him in another. His arm draped around the back of the chair.   
I noted the moment the staff realised who he was. A nervous waitress with fake bite marks on her neck approached us carefully.  
“Welcome to Bloodlust.” She managed to speak loud enough that we could hear her. “Can I get you a drink?”  
“Double Bourbon.” The clown said to her, his face passive but his eyes harsh. “And you, my sweet?” He squeezed my shoulder, hard, to get my attention.   
“Vodka, straight.” I said and she bobbed before nearly running to the bar with our order.  
“What do you think?” He muttered in my ear. I guessed his mood.  
“A room full of desperate losers.” I said without thinking and he threw back his head, laughing. The waitress returned and put our drinks down quickly, retreating without asking for payment. I doubted many people survived asking The Joker for payment. He watched her retreat. She stole furtive looks at him, blushing.  
“She wants you.” I said and he looked at me, bright eyes burning. I raised my eyebrows at him. “Look at her, vampires and darkness. She wants danger but is too scared to find it.” I rolled my eyes and he grinned at me.  
“But you, you’re not scared are you, babe?” He growled in my ear, leaning close enough that I felt his lips brush my skin.  
“What about you?” I accused turning so his face was only a breath away. “Scared of the dark?” He smiled at me and picked up his drink, necking it and licking his lips before turning back to the dancefloor. We watched as the dancers ground their bodies against each other. The music was repetitive, hard riffs with no meaning, the words lost to the distortion.  
“Why are we here?” I said.  
“Bored already, kitten?” He grinned.  
“This is like a theme park, all the danger, none of the risk. Not your style. Why are we here?”  
“Well you see,” He said leaning close to my ear again. “This club happens to belong to an old friend of mine.”  
“Oh? And who might that be?” I replied.  
“The two-minded fellow you met the other night.”  
“Dent.” I replied turning to him, eyes wide.   
“Oh yes. I thought you might enjoy meeting him again, seeing as you… got off on the wrong foot?”  
“Is he here?” I asked looking around for any hiding places.  
“Don’t know.” He whispered in my ear. “Shall we see if we can get him to come out and play?”  
He drew one of his guns, a hard looking automatic, and held it up for me to see.  
“Wait.” I said but it was too late. He took aim and fired a round at the band and managed to hit the drummer in the arm.  
It wasn’t the hit but the sound that caused the commotion. The band fell silent and the crowd hit the deck, a scream echoing through the room.   
The Joker grinned and fired another round which hit the young man who had been yelling into his microphone square in the jaw. Another scream and the crowd erupted, pushing for the exits. The waitress who’d served us tried to push past but Joker grabbed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her to stand at his side.  
She squealed and tried to resist, even looked at me like I’d save her. I sat like a statue.   
It wasn’t long before the crowd and most of the staff had cleared out. The silence rang like a bell and a familiar face emerged from the gloom.  
“Dent! Old buddy, old pal!” Called The Joker as he approached. I could see men in each corner, armed to the teeth and waiting for the order to gun us down. I slid my hand over the pistol at my side, concealed in the dark beneath the table. “We were in the neighbourhood and thought we’d stop by. Isn’t that right honey?”  
I made myself smile at Dent.  
The disfigured man was furious, I could see in the set of his shoulders and the light in his eyes. They didn’t stray from The Joker and he came closer, assured that he was well covered.   
“I just loooove what you’ve done with the place.” He continued and squeezed the waitress enough to make her squeak. “The staff are so friendly.”  
“Mr Dent! Please!” She cried and I spared her a glance at the same time as he did. She was squirming against The Joker’s grasp, tears running down her face, makeup ruined.   
“Wanna swap? Yours is so much softer!” Joker teased grinning at me. I smiled back at him but there was venom in my eyes.   
“You’re a bigger fool than I took you for, coming here.” Dent finally spoke. “You think I care about that girl?” He drew a coin from his jacket pocket. I watched curiously, that coin was the stuff of legend. “Lets see is worth the hassle.”  
“Ohhhh lets!” The Joker agreed.   
Dent flicked the coin into the air and caught it. He slapped it into the back of his hand then lifted off to reveal the result.  
“Sorry my dear.” She said and the girl screamed in protest just before one of his men shot her. Joker laughed outrageously and shook her body around a little before dropping her.  
“Too bad. She was soft, in all the right places.” He growled at Dent.   
I stood up and backed off feigning disgust and fear. Dent barely noticed me, discounting me as one of The Jokers spineless floozies.  
I looked for a way out, thought maybe I could drag him away. IT wasn't until The two-faced man drew a pistol from beneath his jacket and pointed it at The Joker that I knew there was only one way out of this. For his part the clown sat back casually, throwing his arms out, Pistol limp in his hand.  
“Your turn.” Dent growled and tossed the coin again. I took the opportunity as he followed its arc to step forward and press my gun to his head. The coin clattered to the floor and I heard a dosen guns arm and point at me.  
“Ah! I should have mentioned my new lady has a bit of a temper.” Joker chuckled.  
“Drop it.” I said, kicking myself inwardly for not guessing my lovers plan. Dent refused, eyes swiveling to watch me. Luckily I was on his right, the human looking side. I pulled back the hammer on my gun and pressed it harder. “I said. Drop. It.”  
“I’d do as she says, you’ve seen her angry.” Joker said casually, inspecting his nails. Dent finally dropped the gun and it clattered on the ground.  
“Do you think you’re smart, girl?” He said through gritted teeth. “You won’t survive for more than a minute!”  
“A minute longer than you.” I reply and the Joker throws back his head and laughs.  
“Classic!” He roared.  
“What do you want then!” Dent growled. The Joker stood up and steped forward lithely.  
“Just to bury the hatchet, old friend. I’ll make you a deal. “ He turned around on the spot. “You tell your goons to back off of my businesses and I tell my lovely assistant not to blow your brains out!”  
“You’re insane.” Dent barked and I pressed the gun to his temple harder.  
“So I’m told.” The Joker replies. He scoops up the coin and presses it into Dents hand. “Lets make it fair then. Heads, you agree and we all walk out of here. Tails she shoots you, your goons shoot us and the GCPD get to scratch two big names off their top ten list!”  
Dent seems to pause for a second and flips the coin. We all watch it twist in the air and he catches it. Again she slaps it onto his hand and lifts. Heads.  
I step back a little, gun still pointed at his head.  
“Do we have a deal then, Harv?” Joker gloats, holding out his hand. Dent reluctantly shakes it and The Joker laughs. He lets go and walks towards me wrapping his free arm around my waist he walks me backwards to the exit as I cover our retreat.   
“Must dash! You know how it is, dontcha Harv?”  
He pulls me through the door then pulls me into a run.   
We dart out of the club and to the alley. I throw myself into the passenger's seat and we tear out of the alley at breakneck speed.  
After a few twists and turns what just happened hit me and I pull my gun on him.  
“Pull over!” I order and he grins at me. “Pull the fuck over!”  
He obliges and cuts the engine sitting primly with his hands in his lap.  
“What the fuck was that!” I cry, my voice breaking.  
“Just a business deal, my sweet.” He replies with a smirk.  
“You could have gotten us both killed you rat bastard!”  
“So?” He replies.  
“You think I want to die like that!” I screech and he just smiles. I open the door and climb out onto the sidewalk. I pull at my hair and scrunch up my face, trying not to scream.  
He climbs out and stands in front of me.  
“Come now! I told you we’d have fun!” He sang and I threw myself at him, pushing him onto his back on the hood of the car with the gun pressed against his jaw.  
“Fun! You thought that was fun!” I growl and he looks so serene.  
“Oh yes!” He purrs, running his fingers along my own jaw. “Didn’t you?”  
He leans up and captures my lips with his. I can’t help but kiss him back but don’t let go of the gun. He slides his and over my hip and the second he gains a grip he rolls us over so I lie on my back on the hood of the car with the gun still pressed to his jaw. He leans over me grin still in place.  
“Well?” He says and I groan inwardly.  
“You fucker!” I snap and grab a fist full of his shirt with my free hand and drag him to meet my lips. He pins my hand with the gun to the metal surface as his free hand slides under me to up my ass. I lift one of my legs to hook over his hip as he grinds against me.  
Distant sirens drag us back to reality.   
He growls.  
“Much as I’d love to give them a show-” He says pulling back and dragging me to my feet.  
“Shut up and drive.” I snap, climbing back in.  
We’re long gone by the time the cops pull up at the club. All they find is the poor dead waitress and singer and three dosen eye-witness accounts that state that The Joker came in and started shooting.  
I fight with myself as we fly along the streets. I hate him for putting me in that standoff against my will, hate myself more for enjoying the thrill.  
As we pull up at the house Frost comes out to meet us.  
“Boss you need to see this.” He says and Joker gives him a deadly look. “Its important.” Frost reiterated. Joker turned to me.  
“Head up.” He ordered and I left to go back to the room.   
I pass several of his men who nod to me as I go. I get to the room and sit on the bed to kick off my boots. Rubbing my feet I can hear him laughing all the way from his office. I wonder what it means as I unclasp the hoster and tuck it into the drawer next to the bed and unzip the tight pants, enjoying the feeling of freedom as I peel off the material.  
I pad into the bathroom in just my new blouse and panties, taking the opportunity to splash some water on my face.  
I step out to find him already draped over the bed, shirtless with his hands behind his head beaming from ear to ear.  
“Come here baby.” He purrs and I can’t help but come closer. I move too slow for him and he’s off the bed and grabbing at me before I can breathe.  
His hands seem to be everywhere at once, lips at my mouth my throat my breast. I gasp and moan. He gets frustrated at my necklace and with a sharp tug it snaps, beads flying everywhere. I start to complain but he pushes me face first into the bed and presses his hips against my ass.  
He snakes an arm under me to lift me high enough for his lips to flicker across my ear. The other arm slips down over my stomach and under my panties, cupping my slickness. I groan at the feel of him and I know he’s grinning.  
In a heartbeat my panties are gone and his trousers are undone.  
He grips my hips and presses into me. I gasp as he enters me and begins thrusting against me. I grab handfuls of the sheets, trying to gain purchase on anything as he pounds against me.  
He runs his nails down my back and I feel the knot in my belly tighten yet again. My legs turn to jelly as a great wave of pleasure crashes over me again and he wraps an arm around my waist to hold me up. He growls as he comes and slumps over me, panting.  
He withdraws and shucks off the trousers fully, climbing onto the bed and grabbing my wrists to pull me up to lie on his chest.   
I’m shocked by this unaccustomed tenderness. I can hear his heart under my head and lie fascinated as it slows to a more steady rhythm. Regaining my strength I push up onto my elbows to look up at him.  
“Joker?” I say quietly and he reaches out to stroke my cheek. I’m trembling slightly.  
“Why do you call me that?” He asks, his eyes hooded.  
“It’s your name.” I laugh but he doesn’t smile. “What would you like me to call you?”  
“The other girls-” He started and I sat up.   
“No. I don’t want to call you ‘Mr J’” I say making quotes with my hands. “I’m not one of your throwaways, at least-” I look down and twist my hands together.  
He reaches out again but I draw back, smiling too wildly.  
“So what should I call you? Clown? Fool? Damaged?” I point at his tattooed forehead. I’m backing down the bed, his eyes are dangerous but his lips twitch. “Knave? Jester? Jack?” I continue and he coils around to crawl down the bed towards me. “Smiley? Chuckles?” I continue and he grabs one of my ankles to slide me back towards him. He smiles widely enough I can see the caps on his teeth. “Red? Mr White?” I hesitate as he looms over me and his hands lide over my naked hips, fingers tracing my scars. “Honeybun?” He stops, one eyebrow raised and waggles a finger at me disapprovingly.  
“Sweetheart? Honey Bunny? Muffin?” I continue and he lays over me, his long hard body pressing me into the mattress. He presses a finger to my lips but I ignore it. “Cutie?” I mutter against it as he parts my legs and lowers himself to press against me. “Stud? Beast?” I groan and I can feel him growing against me.  
“Lover?” I whisper looking into his eyes and he smiles.  
“We have a winner.” He whispers back and replaces his finger with his lips.


	13. Escape

In the days and weeks that followed I became his shadow. Every time he left the mansion I was with him. Our visit to Dent seemed to have worked and we toured Jokers various businesses to remind them who was in charge.  
For my part I paid attention and watched the Clown’s back. I was less his ‘lady’ and more his bodyguard. His flunkies and minions eyed me warily as did his enemies.  
Joker let me do as I pleased but would always react with immediate and unrestrained fury if another man so much as brushed past me. I watched in confusion as he beat a man to death for drunkenly grabbing my ass and most learnt quickly not to let their gaze linger on me too long.   
Such outbursts were always followed by him ‘reclaiming’ my body, usually loudly and often publicly. What little tenderness he showed was only in private and very rare.  
I enjoyed his attentions at first but soon it began to infuriate me. His men avoided me and he was the only one I could speak to. I was isolated and alone, another cage albeit a gilded one had settled over me. I realised I’d stopped saying some things, doing some things, wearing some things. He didn’t like it.  
One evening he drew his gun on the waiter at his own restaurant, claiming he’d looked down my top. The young man retreated as if stung and I stood up my chair tipping back.  
“Thats enough!” I growled and knew all eyes were on us. “I get it, no one touches me but you. But this is getting ridiculous.” I turned away and began to leave.  
“Where do you think you’re going?” He spat and I turned back.  
“Anywhere but here!” I stalked through the front door and out into the night. The cool breeze felt good on my skin as I started walking away. The air tasted like petrol and booze and freedom. I was wearing a ankle length deep pink dress split to the hip on my left side and had no handbag but my pistol was strapped to my thigh beneath the dress and I as so full of righteous fury that I didn’t care what happened.  
“Hey!” Called a man smoking with his friends outside a bar on the opposite side of the road. “How are you doing, beautiful?”  
I ignored him but he wasn’t one to take this as a rejection. He followed along the opposite side, he friends tagging along and jeering at him.   
“Come over here!” He called. “What's your name?”  
I smiled slightly, impressed by his persistence.   
“Come on, afraid I’m too much man for you?” He said and his friends fell about laughing. I stopped in my tracks and turned to him. Making a decision I sauntered over to him, swinging my hips suggestively. His friends hooted at his success in gaining my attention. He was fairly handsome, slightly younger than me with dark hair and warm brown eyes. His surprised smile was a little lopsided and his drunken gaze was hungry.  
“Sorry.” I purred and put a hand in the centre of his chest, pushing him firmly back into the brick wall behind him. He swallowed and looked like he’d won the lottery. I slid my other hand over his hip and fluttered my eyes at him. “Did you say you were too much man for me?”  
He swallowed and nodded as I leaned into him.  
I took his hand and lead it to run down my right thigh. I could hear his friends behind me making comments.  
I slid my dress out of the way and his eyes grew heated as he touched my skin. That is until they met the gun strapped there. I pulled it from the holster and pressed it to his stomach. The laughter died.  
“Maybe I’m just a little too much woman for you.” I smiled and he looked like all the blood had drained from his face. “Awww don’t want to have fun with me anymore?”  
He nodded then shook his head quickly.  
“Please. I’m sorry.” He whimpered and I backed off, keeping the gun leave with his gut and letting him rejoin his friends.   
“Go back to your games little boy.” I purred then walked away, a wry smile on my face.   
Not so long ago I would have ignored his attentions or even feared them.  
I turned into an alley to take a shortcut to the old jazz bar.   
“That wasn’t very nice.” A voice behind me.  
I turned pointing the gun and found myself face to face with my lovers other obsession. The Bat.  
I smiled and held up my hands.  
“No harm done. Maybe he learnt his lesson about yelling at women in the street.” I said coyly. I noticed him looking at the gun and reupholstered it, making sure he got an eyeful of my legs. “So what do you want?” I say, standing and crossing my arms under my breasts.  
“You want a taste too?”  
“What’s The Joker doing?” His voice is deep and I can hear it being distorted by a speaker in his suit.  
“Don’t know don’t care.” I say quickly and turn to leave. He grabs my arm roughly and pulls me back.  
I’m facing him now, less than a step away.  
“What's he planning?” He says and I focus on his lips, the only human part of him.   
“No idea, I’m just along for the ride.” I say and his grip tightens. I feel the need to step closer.  
“No. You’re not just one of his floozies.” He says.  
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” I purred. “But why the hell would he tell me anything. I’m just his chew toy.”  
“Prove it.” He says and I step forward and press my lips to his. In his surprise he opens his mouth to gasp and I deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue against his. I feel his skin warming and he steps back, my lipstick smeared on his face. He’s trying to fein that he is calm but I can tell I’ve shaken him.  
“I’m a pretty good chew toy.” I say calmly. I turn away and start walking. “Fly away little bat, before the monsters come out to play.”  
I can feel his eyes on me but when I turn he’s gone.  
I saunter out of the alley and nearly walk into Frost. He catches my arm and I laugh.   
“Been looking for you.” He said gruffly.  
“Bastard couldn’t be bothered to come himself?” I laugh and The Joker steps out from behind him. His eyes are mirthless as he takes in my smudged makeup. Frost lets go and backs up so his boss can grip my jaw and pull me against him.  
“Who you been kissing?” He growled.  
“Anyone I want.” I reply and he pushes me into a lampost. “Let go!” I grunt.   
His grip tighten and I pull the gun again, pressing to his neck.  
“Boss.” Frost says calmly. “Boss, come on.”  
There's a tic in his jaw but the Joker releases me and I slap him. I storm off.  
“Where are you going?” He roars after me. I raise my middle finger to him and keep going. I have four $100 bills in my bra and a gun. I knew I’d be fine.  
“Boss, let her go.” I heard Frost rumble. I waved down a cab and climbed in.  
“Take me to a hotel, any hotel.” I ordered the cab driver and we took off into the night.  
I booked into a mid-range hotel, the kind with sleek modern furniture and chrome everywhere, and ended up pacing in the room for the remainder of the night. I drank everything from the minibar and collapsed at dawn.

I came to at midday and threw up. I showered until I stopped shivering and called the only person I thought might listen.   
An hour later I stepped out of a cab at her door. Laura stepped out and hugged me tight pulling me into her homey little apartment. I looked a sight still in my ostentatious dress. She leant me some sweatpants and a hoodie.  
She sat me on her sofa and gave me a coffee. I told her everything.  
I told her about the club, about Dent, about the people I’d killed, about the night at the lookout and everything since. Bless her she listened through it all, sat next to me like the angel she was.  
“Do you think he’ll come after you?” She asked when I subsided.  
“I don’t know.” I said.  
“Do you love him?”  
“I-” I shook my head. I didn’t know what I felt.   
“Are you gonna go back?”  
I clutched at my head.  
“I’ve got to, everything I own is there.” I say, muffled.  
“Look at you! He turned you into a killer!” I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d done that to myself. I kicked myself inwardly for coming to her.  
She made me a sandwich and I ate it sparsely. She tried to distract me with talk of her new boyfriend (he worked in the tech shop opposite the lingerie store), and their planned holiday to the mountains.   
“I’ve gotta tell you something.” She said and took my hand. She looked equal parts excited and scared. “I’m pregnant!” She said and I smiled. “I know its fast but Bobby, he’s gonna do right by me.” I nodded and kissed her hand. I realised what a fool I was.  
I stood up.  
“I gotta go.” I said and she bounced to her feet in a panic.  
“No you can’t” She whined and I hugged her.  
“I can’t be here.” I say into her hair, feeling tears prick my eyes. “You’ve got a life and I’ll only ruin it. Can I keep the sweats?” I ask and she nods, pulling away. “Listen after I’m gone wait… twenty minutes then call the cops. Tell them I was here, tell them that The Jokers woman was here. You answer all their questions then forget about me.”  
“I don’t understand!” She was crying now, tears falling from her big kind eyes. “Where are you going?”  
“I’m gonna go get my stuff then I’m gonna leave. I’m gonna leave Gotham, don’t know where. Maybe the cops will find me, maybe not.” I hugged her again. “You be good now, you be good to that baby. Maybe move to Metropolis away from all this crap.” She nodded again.  
I didn’t wait, I pulled on a pair of sneakers that she leant me and stuffed the gun and holster into my pocket. I was out the door and down the street as fast as I could.  
I got another cab and watched as the sirens screamed past a few minutes later.  
I got out a little way from the mansion and tipped the driver well. It was full dark by the time I reached the house. The door was never locked and I just walked in through the garage. His Car was gone and something in me relaxed.  
I walked casually through the building, passing several of his men, if they were surprised to see me they didn’t show it. The door to his office was open and it was empty, I relaxed more. His room was empty and I sighed in relief. I noticed his favorite holster still hung on a hook but tried to ignore it.   
I found the gym bag I’d shoveled my things into weeks ago and filled it with things I thought I’d need. Underwear and socks, casual clothes and a wad of cash from the drawer. I looked wistfully at the nightgown I’d bought, never had the chance to wear it for him, I stuffed it back into the drawer. Let some other bitch wear it for him. I left my gun on the bed, figured that would do as goodbye. I looked around the room and bit my lip. Scooping up my phone I shouldered the bag and turned to leave.  
Mack stood in the doorway.  
“Don’t try and stop me.” said and pushed past him.  
“You can’t go!” He said, panic in his eyes. “He’s-” He followed me down the   
“He’ll be fine. He’ll sulk for a while then find another girl to warm his bed. Someone who doesn’t mind being his chew toy.”  
“I just got a call from Johnny!” He said. “J’s gone to a meeting, alone.”  
“Why should I care?” I say flippantly but I can feel my stomach clench.  
“No guns, no backup. Falcone’s gonna kill him.”  
“No, I don’t care, Mack.” I turned away.  
“He hasn’t slept, just kept drinking.” He continues. I stop in my tracks and stomp my foot.  
“Stop it!” I snap.  
“I’ve never seen him like this. I think he wants to die.”  
I drop my bag, wishing I’d kept the gun.  
“Shit! Fine. Where is he?”

I pulled up in front of Falcone’s bar an hour later and I climbed out of the cab to admiring looks from the bouncers. I stumbled up to him with a grin on my face.  
“Hi there!” I trilled. “Is Mr J here?” I said and they looked uneasy. “ Need to see him, pretty please!”  
One took me inside and lead me through the bar. I smiled vacantly at everyone and weaved across the floor in a daze. He took me out back to a VIP area.  
“Gotta search you.” He said turning around and I nodded enthusiastically holding out my arms.  
“Want me against the wall?” I purred and hicupped giggling while he patted me down. His hands lingered on my chest, my ass and I giggled. If they knew who I was they have no sign. I was wearing one of Goldie’s dresses, luckily she was taller than me.  
Satisfied he stood and looked in my face, I gave him a lopsided grin.  
He knocked on the door and at a muffled bark he opened the door to peer in.  
“Sorry Boss. Joker’s girl is here, she’s-” He hesitated. “I think she’s taken something, she’s real friendly.”  
“Let her in, Ross. Lets take a look.” Came a voice I didn’t recognise.  
The man stepped back and held the door open for me. I stumbled in and turned to blow him a kiss, I made sure to stumble and fall down, giggling, letting the top of the dress slip a little giving the room an eyeful and breaking one of my heels.  
I pulled myself up and dusted myself off before smiling at the room. Joker was sat at a poker table arms relaxed over the back of the leather chair, his eyes like saucers. Across from him was the mob boss Falcone and two of his men, one on either side.   
“Mr J!” I squealed and bounded to him, kicking off my shoes. The dress waas strapless, red and covered in sequins. It fell to my knees and hugged every inch of me. My hair was up in an elaborate style that had deflated somewhat and the diamond necklace Joker had given me sparkled around my throat. I was wearing more makeup that I’d worn in years with my lips painted shrieking red to match the dress and my long nails. I wasn’t wearing a bra and felt it with every move.  
I climbed into his lap straddling him and gave him a wet kiss, smearing my lipstick.  
“I looked everywhere for you, Honeylips!” I cried. “A real nice man bought me a drink. It was pink!” I hiccuped again. “I feel all tingly!”  
I grabbed his hands and pushed them onto my breasts gasping dramatically then pushed them down between my legs. Surprise registered on his face but only for a fraction.  
“Who's your friend?” Said Falcone behind me, he sounded amused.  
“Oh!” I squeaked and turned around. “Hi handsome! I’m Tina!” I leaned back too far and fell back onto the poker table.   
“This can’t be the woman I heard about?” Falcone said and I sat up, pulling my legs up onto the table with me.  
“What woman?” I asked. “You been goin around with other girls again Mr J!” I cried pouting at Joker who looked daggers at me. I turned to Falcone, he was tall and well groomed with a perfectly tailored suit. He smiled. His men were mesmerised. “He’s always leavin’ me places and goin’ with other girls!” I turned back to Joker. “Ain’t I good enough!”  
I turned my back to him and leant across to Falcone.  
“What about you, handsome? You wouldn’t leave a gal like me at a club to go off and screw some barmaid, would ya?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him, reaching up and pulling the clip out of my hair littling it fall over my shoulders.  
“Definitely not.” he rumbled and I gave him a blinding smile crawling closer. I slid my legs either side of him.  
“Do you wanna play with me?” I purred, hiccupping and giggling. He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me into his lap. “Oooo!” I squealed wriggling in his lap, He smiled.  
“What do you say I blow this cheap bastards brains out then you and me go have some fun?” He said to me and I smile.   
“Sounds swell!” I say and wrap my arms around his neck.   
He nodded at one of his me who stood up and pointed a huge automatic pistol at The Joker who looked on passively.  
“Any last words?” Falcone rumbled.  
“Bye loser!” I call and kiss the mob boss passionately. Two shots ring out as his hands glide over my breasts.   
He stops as I press the switchblade I’d hidden in my hair to his crotch. I pull away from his lips and his hands fall to his sides as I smile at him.  
Both his men are slumped over, dead and The Joker is stood with the pistol I’d passed him in his hand.   
“Now, Mr Falcone.” I say without a squeak or a giggle. “I think your meeting is over. We’re going to leave now, nice and slow and quiet.” His brown eyes are wide and he nods slowly.  
“By now Frost has this place surrounded so I suggest you stay here, have a drink then go home to your wife.”  
“How?” He asked horsley and I looked down. He followed my eyes. My skirt had ridden up and he could see my leg holster strapped to the inside of my thigh. You could see red marks on my other leg where it had rubbed painfully. “You’re quite a woman.” He said and I slowly stood up, removing the blade.   
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I said graciously. The Joker hadn’t lowered the gun so I gently took his arm and led him out of the room and straight out the back door. I threw his arm around me as he was stumbling.  
Outside in the cool air I slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out his car keys.  
“Where’s your car?” I asked and he pointed. He was dazed and nearly unresponsive. I dragged him in the direction he pointed until I spotted the car.  
I loaded him into the passenger side and climbed in. I started the car and took off slowly, keeping an eye out for pursuit.  
“You came back.” He slurred.  
“Yeah.” I said, keeping my eyes on the road. I navigated the roads as best I could. I learnt in high school but I hated driving. I was definitely one of life’s pedestrians. He didn’t speak again until pulled up the car.   
Frost and Mack were in a big black SUV nearby and they approached us as I pulled Joker, unresisting from the car.  
He looked around brows knotted. We were in front of the bus station. Mack handed me my bag and I smiled at him passing him the keys to the sportscar. I turned to the Joker who looked like a child told there was no santa. I reached out and touched his arm.  
“You’ve got to get in the car with Johnny. Go home, sober up.”  
He grabbed my hand shaking his head as if to clear it.  
“Come on, boss.” Frost said gently and reached for him. Joker slapped his hand away.  
“Give us a minute.” I say and Frost nods, backing off to stand by the SUV while Mack drives away.  
“You’re leaving.” He says swaying slightly.  
“I’ve got to.” I say simply. He pulls me roughly against him.  
“No.” He growls. I push away but he won’t let go. I drop the bag and push against his chest.  
“Let go.” I say and stomp on his foot. He pulls out the gun and presses it to my throat. I look into his glittering blue eyes. “Shoot me or let me go.” I say evenly. “I won’t live like this.”  
I lower my hand and relax my shoulders. “Do it. I want you to do it.”  
He grits his teeth and lowers the gun, letting go of my hand.  
“You’re breaking my heart, dollface.” He says. I lean up and kiss him once, softly.  
“You don’t have a heart, lover.” I whisper then step back. I scoop up the bag and start to walk away.  
“Why?” He snaps. I’m not sure if he means why I am leaving or why I came to save him from himself. I ignore the question and keep walking until the automatic doors open and I step into the fluorescent glare inside the station.  
I change my clothes in the ladies room and buy tickets for the first bus out of Gotham.   
An hour later I was sat on the nearly empty bus, trundling away from Gotham, from him.


	14. New beginnings

As it turned out that bus was headed to Metropolis. As shining and bright as my hometown was dark. Protected, of course, by the caped crusader himself.  
I found a room for rent and a job. Just cashier at a megamarket but It would keep me fed. I sold the hideous necklace and along with the money I’d stuffed in my bag I’d be okay for a while but didn’t want it to run out too fast. Plus a job gave me something to do.  
I shared an apartment with three other people, they were nice but I kept my distance.  
He called me once but I didn’t answer. He left me a voicemail bt I deleted it.  
I considered changing my name but decided against it. If he came after me he’d find me regardless.   
My roomates asked why I’d moved from Gotham. I told them I’d had a bad breakup and wanted to start over. That’s what it boiled down to after all. They asked me about Gotham and I just smiled and said they should visit. Everyone deserves a walk on the wild side.  
One of the guys I worked with asked me out, I turned him down. I needed to be alone, besides I’d forever be comparing him to the clown. Physically, no one would ever match up. Plus I was a killer and I didn’t want to let anyone too close, not until I was sure The cops had forgotten me.  
I dyed my hair and wore different clothes. I stayed in at night and didn’t drink, didn’t smoke. I ate well and regained the weight that living off coffee and vodka had burned off me. I went to a gym and built a little muscle tone.  
I looked better, felt better. Except my temper.  
I found myself getting angry at everything. If someone was rude to me I had to go and calm myself down as I fought the urge to attack them. Outwardly I was calm and friendly but inside I was imagining shooting them in the face. I stayed away from guns and refused to even carry mace.  
I couldn’t trust myself. I realised that I was acting like a recovering addict. To me honest that was exactly what I was. I had been addicted to the sex and violence of my short time with The Joker. It was only the fear that I would be trapped again that had woken me up.  
I dreamt of him of laughing with him as he sped his car dangerously around the city. Of his eyes darkening when I pleased him. Of his arms around me. Of wrapping my legs around his waist. Of his kiss.   
Six months past and when I looked in the mirror I couldn’t see a trace of the person I’d been.   
I was at the checkout one day, ringing up an older woman’s purchases. She paid and I raised my face to smile at the next customer when it froze on my face. George.   
His face split into a smile and he greeted me enthusiastically. He introduced me to the woman next to him, his fiance. She was small, dark and pretty. She was pregnant.  
He said I was an old friend but she narrowed her eyes at me. She knew better.  
I hated the way she looked at me. I smiled and rang up their items quickly, waving them goodbye in as friendly a way as I could.  
I took a break afterwards, I left a hole in the wall of the staff toilets.  
I worried for a week but didn’t see or hear from him. I relaxed back into my routine.   
The next week I had friday off. I usually slept in but woke to my phone ringing, without looking at the screen I picked up.  
“Don’t hang up.” George’s voice, he sounded panicked.  
“What do you want?” I groaned throwing my arm over my eyes.  
“I’m sorry!”  
“For what?”  
“Michelle, she looked at my phone. Found a picture of us from new years. She kept asking about you. I snapped and told her.” He blurted and I sat up, my spine had turned to ice.  
“What did you tell her?” I said slowly.  
“About us about the club and-” He stopped himself.  
“Him.” I finished for him.  
“Yes! She out two and two together. She got mad.”  
“Not my problem.” I said cooly.  
“But she called the cops!” He said and I swore.  
“I told her, I told her you didn’t do the things they said in the news.”  
“What did they say about me?”  
“That you killed all those people. I knew you wouldn’t do that, it was that bastard making you take the blame.”  
“But I did kill them, George. I am what she thinks.” I say and he falls silent.  
“I- I- Ummm… I didn’t know that.” He said at last.  
“Thank you.” I say and hang up.  
I lie there for a while staring at the ceiling. I should run, I know that. I should take the money I have stashed away and leave, now.  
I get up and get dressed in comfortable clothing. I eat a full cooked breakfast and sit on the sofa, watching TV and drinking coffee.   
They finally arrive at about ten. Two officers. I go peacefully while my roommates look on, open mouthed.   
There are a few reporters outside when they load me, cuffed, into the back of the police car. I hold my head up high but keep my face smooth.  
I’m not surprised when they tell me they’re taking me to Gotham. I’m not surprised when we get there and I’m taken straight to an interrogation room. I’m not surprised when the man opposite is familiar.  
I sit down and am offered a cup of water. The room is sparse but for the table bolted to the floor and two chairs. My cuffs are attached to the table and a recorder is pulled out and put in front of me.   
The man with the owl glasses presses a button on the recorder and it begins to whirr.  
“13th November, 3:35pm. My name is Police Commissioner James Gordon. Please state your name for the record.” He says clearly and I comply, he scribbles down my name on a pad and consults his notes. “You are here because you have been arrested pending charge for the murder of Tina McCormick as well as seven unidentified others. Do you understand?”  
“Yes.”  
“You are free at this time to refuse questioning until you have sought legal counsel. Do you wish to proceed?”  
“Yes.”  
“Please understand that anything you say will be used in evidence in a court of law. Do you understand?”  
“Yes.”  
“When did you first meet the criminal known as ‘The Joker’?”  
“A little over three years ago.” I reply. He isn’t looking at me so I let my eyes roam around the room. The walls are plain but I know there is a two way mirror behind me. I guess there are people watching.  
“What were the circumstances?”  
“He killed my husband.” I said without emotion.  
“The records show that you were a victim of domestic abuse. Is that correct?”  
“Yes.”  
“You had been married for five years when your husband was murdered.”  
“Yes.”  
“The Joker killed him in front of you but you claimed responsibility for his death at the time. Why was that?”  
“I asked him to shoot Marlon. He did.”  
“You were later found to be innocent of any wrongdoing.”  
“Yes.”  
“When did you next meet him?”  
“Two years later at a club he owned. In August.”  
“How did you meet him?”  
“He was dating my work friend.”  
“Was that Tina McKormick?”  
“Yes.”  
“Do you remember Miss McKormick’s death?”  
“Yes that was a little over a month later.”  
“Will you please tell me about that?”  
“Sorry, but no.” I say and his shoulders tense.  
“Do you understand that your refusal to co-operate may influence the court's decision?”  
“I understand.”  
“When did you begin a relationship with George Hartson?”  
“In November of that year.”  
“And when did you terminate that relationship?”  
“A week before valentine's day.”  
“Why did you break up?”  
“I’m sorry. I won’t answer that.” His shoulders tense again.  
“When did you begin a relationship with the man known as ‘The Joker’?” he said through gritted teeth.  
“A day or two later.”  
“That was quick.” He commented and I gave him a level look. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked uncomfortable in the suit he wore and his hair was messy. “I apologise. Please, did you live with the man known as ‘The Joker’ during your relationship?”  
“Yes.”  
“The address please.”  
“I’m sorry. I won’t answer that.”  
“Did you meet any of his associates?”  
“I’m sorry. I won’t answer that.” I repeated.  
“Did you witness anything of an illegal nature?”  
“I’m sorry. I won’t answer that.” I say again. He’s staring at me now, his jaw clenched.  
“Were you under duress? Where you forced to do anything that you did not want to do?”  
“No.”  
“Do you have anything to say in defence of the crimes you are accused of?”  
“No.”  
“Let the record show that this interrogation ended at 3:42pm.” He says and turns off he machine.  
He gets up and opens the door.  
“Put her in a cell.” He orders into the hallway and two officers arrive to detach me from the table and take me to a holding cell.   
They repeat this charade three more times. I’m willing to give them the dates but never details. They offer me deals, threaten me but I don’t budge.   
My court-appointed counselor tries to convince me to take a deal, to testify against others.  
I decline politely.  
I’m taken in front of a judge. I plead guilty. I’m sentenced to three life sentences and they load me into the back of a car and take me to Blackgate Prison. I feel the flash of photographers but do not acknowledge them.  
I am searched and measured. Given loose fitting orange clothing and lead to a cell in the women’s block.   
My cellmate is a tall, dangerously thin woman with greasy hair and awful teeth. She jumps up from the lower bunk when I step in, clutching the drawstring bag of blankets the guards gave me.   
The cell is small with just a metal bunk bed, small desk and toilet. There are a few personal possessions around, books and clothing. But no real comforts.  
She wipes her hand on her trousers then holds it out to me.  
“Hi, I’m Matilda.” She says and I take her hand, introducing myself. “Top bunk’s yours. Need me to help you make the bed right?” I shake my head at her and start adding the rough sheets to the bed. I look at hers and copy it. After I’ve smoothed the blankets I climb up and sit with my back against the wall.   
“Uhhhhhh…” She tries to make conversation but my one word replies repel her after a while. We’re not locked in so she heads out to the common area. I stay in the cell. I need to rest.  
A knock. I look up and several women with predatory smiles are gathered at the door.  
“Hi new fish!” The one art the front calls out. She is petite with bleach blonde hair. I raise an eyebrow. “We’re the welcome wagon!” She said with false cheer, wondering in with the others following.  
“What do you want?” I sigh.  
“Dunno. What’ve you got?” She says and the women behind her giggle nervously. I point to the remains of the string bag, there are a few sparse toiletries.  
“Go ahead.” I say and one snatches them up. “Now get out.” I say, sitting back.  
“Think you’re tough? Little fish?” The pack leader spits. I look at her, all manic energy with dilated pupils. Drugs.  
“Not tough, tired.” I say. They file out and the leader treats me to what she thinks is an intimidating look as she leaves. I smile at the empty cell, she has no idea.  
Later a guard drags be from the cell to eat. The common area is little more than an open space with long metal tables, each with six metal stools, bolted to the floor. The area is surrounded on three sides with cells and some stairs lead up to a second floor of the same with a rails balcony above. Guards stand in the corners and there’s a big window were more watch us.  
Everything is painted grey. The only colour is our orange uniforms and the faded blue of the guards.  
I pick up a tray of lackluster food and sit down at an open seat. A hand reaches out and snatches the pudding cup off my tray. I pretend I didn’t see it and don’t raise my eyes from my food until I’ve finished. If anyone spoke to me I ignored them.  
I stand and turn to clear my tray and that same grinning woman is stood behind me.  
“Hello fishy!” She says. “Enjoy your dinner?”  
I step around her but her cronies fill up the space.   
“Look I’ll give you a little advice. Leave me the fuck alone.” I say. “I’m never getting out of here so do yourself a favor and forget I exist.”  
I push past but she tries to trip me. I keep my balance and take a deep breath.  
“Now where’s the fun in that?” She cackles.  
“Fun?” I mutter. “You want fun?”  
“Yeah!” She says and her friends laugh with her.   
I jam the edge of the tray into her stomach and as she doubles I slam her face into my knee. I hear her nose crunch and she lies groaning on the floor.  
“How's that for fun?” I say, smiling as the guards arrive.  
I’m bundled back to the cell. They threaten solitary confinement but don’t make good on it. They mutter something about provocation and back out.  
I don’t leave the cell again that day.  
Matilda sidles in just before they lock us in for the night. I’m reading one of her books but she says nothing.  
After the lights go out I lie staring at the ceiling, graffiti scratched into it tells me a lot about the former occupants. Not least their ability to spell.  
“Matilda?” I say and I feel her jolt in her bed.  
“Y- Yes?”  
“Why are you here?”  
“Drugs. I got caught stealin’ to buy more.”  
“What drug?”  
“Crack.” She gets more confident with each answer. “I’m clean now.”  
“How long have you got left?”  
“‘Bouta year.” I’m silent for a while. “What ‘bout you?” She asks.  
“Pretty sure they’re never letting me out.” I say and roll over. 

The next day I feel the eyes of the room on me as I eat my breakfast, Matilda has decided that I’m safe enough to be around and she chats to me while we eat. The fact that I barely respond doesn’t seem to bother her. She’s curiously calming company.  
“Hey, new girl!” A call and I sigh, looking up. An older woman is stood behind Matilda. She’s squat with beady eyes and furiously curly hair. I raise my eyebrows.  
“Boss wants to see ya.” She says and points at a far table where a tall, attractive woman sits waiting. I turn back to my food.  
“Not interested.” I say and she snorts.  
“The boss don’t take kindly to that kind of attitude.” She says.  
“Neither did that bitch yesterday.” I say and she storms off.  
Matilda is quick to return to her one sided conversation and I purposely don’t look at the woman who is staring holes through my head.   
I feel someone sit beside me facing away from the table. Matilda shuts up. I groan and look up. Its her.  
“Name’s Sofia. Sofia Falcone.” She says and I laugh. She looks unhappy, I’m pretty sure that's not the reaction she usually got.  
“I’ve met your father.” I snort and turn back to my food. “He’s a pretty good kisser.”  
She sweeps my tray onto the floor and i turn to her, mocking smile on my lips.  
“I know you. You’re The Joker’s little squeeze.” She says loudly. I roll my eyes as the room falls silent. “Think you’re big do ya!”  
“Nope. Not big.” I reply glibly. “Not little, not anything really.”  
“I run things in here, bitch.” She hisses, not so pretty anymore, her long wavy hair looks dry this close up and a vein in her forehead is sticking out.  
“Good for you. Not my problem.” I say. “I just want to keep to myself.”  
“Why should I let you?” She growls and I turn my whole body, smiling to her.  
“Two reasons.” I say holding up two fingers. “One, I had every chance to gut your father like a pig not too long ago but didn’t.” I drop one finger. “And two, I’m here for life. Life, Miss Falcone. I’ve got three life sentences plus whatever they threw on top for… educating that idiot yesterday. All attacking me will do is amuse me. Extra time doesn’t matter to me and if you kill me you’d be doing me a favor.” I drop the other finger and open my palm. “I’ll leave you alone if you do me the same honour.” I hold my hand out to her. “Deal?”  
She hesitates then shakes my hand. She gets up and returns to her table.  
I clean up the food and return the tray.


	15. Reward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here's fair warning that this chapter is very dark.
> 
> Very violent and pretty hard on the heart.
> 
> You have been warned.

It’s a week before the first attempt on my life.  
I stood under the lukewarm shower, raising my face to the spray, when I heard a noise behind me. I turned in time to see a heavily tattooed woman lunge for me, sharpened toothbrush in hand. I stood to the side and she slipped, slamming into the tiles. I kicked away the homemade shank and called for the guard who hauled the woman off. She was burbling about a reward.  
After that I was wary.  
Another came after me during dinner the next day.  
I blocked her thrust with my tray and she skidded on the spilled food.   
The next wasn’t so subtle. A loose brick thrown at my head during yard time three days later. I was lucky they missed. The poor girl they hit wasn’t so lucky.  
By the fourth attempt I was angry.   
I spotted her easily, looking nervous as we lined up for the recreation room. I just wanted to watch TV in peace.  
The rec room was little more than a large office repurposed with a few craft tables and a TV surrounded by folding chairs. It also served for the christmas play each year and there were curtains hung at one end.   
I waited for the inevitable argument about what to watch before grabbing the girl and pulling her behind the curtain with me. She was small and pretty quick but I managed to slam her face first into the wall, pinning her arms behind her. I pulled the screwdriver out of her sleeve and pocketed it.  
“So.” I said as she struggled. I twisted her arms up into her back. “Gonna tell me why you were planning on using that toothpick?”  
“Uh! There’s a reward!” She grunted. “Fifty Grand.”  
“Lovely. Who offered such a tasty reward?” I growled into her ear. She struggled so I pulled out the screwdriver and held it against her side. She stopped.  
“Two-face!” She squeaked as I poked her with it. I sighed and dropped her arms letting her turn around.   
“I should have shot him when I had the chance.” I said rubbing my hands down my face. I looked at the girl who was looking at me in fear and a little admiration. “Fifty Grand, huh?” I say and she nods. “You had to know I’d put up a fight.” She shrugged.  
“Lotta money.” She said.   
“Go, don’t make me regret not jamming this in your skull.” I say dismissing her.   
She bolts away from me and I emerge from the curtains behind her, screwdriver firmly pushed up the sleeve of my prison-issue sweatshirt.  
The fifth attempt got thrown down some stairs.  
The sixth her head dunked in a mop bucket.  
The seventh was where I drew the line.  
By now I’d stopped leaving my cell at all, I faked a stomach bug so the guards didn’t hassle me. I racked my brains trying to think of a way to stop the attacks, but couldn’t think of anything. I had nothing to offer.  
I passed the cell and sat down heavily on Matilda’s bunk. I felt something under me and cursed under my breath. I felt around and found it, a piece of plastic piping snapped so there was a point at one end. I put it back and sighed. I made a decision, but I didn’t have to like it.  
That night I waited until I heard her shift under me and sat up. I dropped to the floor and heard her stifle a squeak.  
“Need to take a leak.” I said and sat on the toilet for a moment, I didn’t even pretend by pulling down my trousers but she didn’t notice as she lay pretending to be asleep, eyes squeezed shut like child waiting for santa.  
I got up and stretched, then crouched my her head. I touched her forehead and her eyes flew open.  
“I get it you know. It’s a lot of money.” I whispered casually, pushing her hair back tenderly. “But in my sleep, Matilda?” I said and tutted. I could see her gripping something under the covers and smiled at her. “That’s pretty low, even for gutter trash like you.”  
She opened her mouth but I was too fast for her and buried the screwdriver I’d slipped out in the dark into her throat. I was heavy handed and felt it scrape against her spine.  
She gasped for air and clawed at the handle but I held it firm. She could only gargle and soon fell still. I closed her eyes and pulled out the point, pulling the blankets up to her neck so she wouldn’t be spotted if the guards looked in.   
I left the screwdriver next to her head and washed my hands. Once upon a time I would have felt remorse or even nausea at such an act. Right now I just felt relieved. I knew I could sleep peacefully that night. I climbed into bed and did just that while my erstwhile assassin grew cold beneath me.  
In the morning I sat cross legged on my bunk, waiting for discovery.  
Eventually one of the guards poked his head in the door. I gave him a sunny smile.  
“I see you’re feeling better.” He said.  
“Yep! Much better! But poor Tilly isn’t feeling so good, will you take a look?” I ask calmly.  
He looks confused but seps up and pulls back the blanket. He swears loudly and I can’t help but laugh at him.  
He pulls me down from my bunk and marches me out, bellowing into his radio. The women already eating breakfast look up and I grin at them as I’m dragged away.  
They lock me in a windowless cell by myself and I lie back on the bare bunk. Free, at least for now, from the threat of attack I relaxed. I don’t think for a moment that the attempts will stop but maybe, if I kill enough of them, they might decide its not worth it.

I’ve lost track of the days by the time they open the door again.   
The guard is dressed in a stab vest and I stand as he enters. I hold my wrists out and he tells me to turn around.  
He cuffs my wrists behind my back and pushes me out the door.  
To my surprise he doesn’t take me back to the cell block but out through processing.  
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as I shuffle along.  
“The courthouse.” He grunts. I stop and he tries to push me.  
“Why?” I ask and he looks annoyed.  
“You’ve got to be sentenced for killing that gal.” He says and I roll my eyes. I start moving again and he meets a police officer at the garage door. He hands me off to him and I’m folded into the back of a car.   
It only takes a few blocks for me to realise what's going on.  
“Soooooooo.” I say drawing out the syllable. “How much did Dent pay you?” I ask and I see him look at me in the rear view mirror. He hesitates for a moment.  
“Thirty.” He says and I whistle.  
“Spend it wisely.” I say and settle back.   
“Its for my daughter!” He protests.  
“Cry me a river.” I laugh. “Better yet buy me a nice wreath. If there’s enough of me left to bury.”  
The cop is silent for the rest of the journey as we head into the warehouse district. He pulls up in front of one and opens his door.  
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He says before getting out. I roll my eyes at him and he closes the door and disappears.  
It’s not long before a man in a dark coat comes and opens the car door and wrenches me out onto the pavement. I consider screaming but I doubt anyone would come to my rescue. He drags me inside and gags me with a length of musty smelling cloth. I’m pulled into a straight backed chair with my arms stretched around the back and my cuffs inter linked with chains that wind around the chair pinning my legs to the chairs.  
The room I’m in is dark and I wince when a bare bulb lights up above me. Two-face walks into the light looking very satisfied. He leans against a table covered with knives and pincers and other awful looking objects. I swallow hard.  
“It would have been easier if you’d just let one of those whores kill you.” He says in a reasonable voice. One half of his suit is blinding white and the other is dark. I roll my head and take a deep breath.  
He comes closer and leans down to look in my face. I meet his lopsided gaze. He seems to come to a decision.   
“Take the gag off, Victor. No one would hear her here anyway.” He says and I feel the knot being untied behind me.  
“Looking good, Mr Dent.” I say running my tongue between my front teeth and my cheek. “If you wanted my attention you could have just asked.”  
He slaps me and i feel my dry lips split. I lick the blood from them and smile. I look up and see someone stood in the gloom.  
“Who’s your friend?” I ask and the figue sighs, stepping out of the dark. There’s no mistaking the squat figure. I laugh at him. “Good to see you, Mr Cobblepot. This how you planned on playing me back?” He actually looks uncomfortable.   
“I always repay my debts.” He replies. Dent leans down and eclipses my view, I smile at him, the sour copper taste of blood on my tongue.  
“You seem cheerful.” He says doubtfully and I realise he thinks I’m drugged, I guess that would ruin his fun.  
“I’m already dead, I may as well have fun with it. Isn’t that right Mr Zsasz!” I call and I hear a deep chuckle from behind me. “Got a good spot picked out for me?” I ask. Dent looks disgusted that I’d recognised his new henchman.  
“Right over my heart.” He rumbles and he slides his hands over my shoulders. I can see the tally marks on his wrists. “I’ll treasure it.”  
“You’d better, Mr Dent here spent a lot of money getting me here.” I say and smile at the disfigured crime lord. “Pity, you might have been handsome if they got your whole face.” I say and he slaps me again. Zsasz laughs.  
Dent stalks back and grabs a hammer from the table. He swings it experimentally.  
“You know he’s forgotten you.” He says. “Got another floozy now. Pretty little thing.”  
I laugh at him.  
“You can do better than that, Harvey.” I say. “If he hated me he’d be here. If he cared you’d be in the chair, not me. I left him, you dumbass.” I hiss. I see the Penguin hide a smile. “If this is foreplay you’ve got a long way to go to get that big O.”  
He swings the hammer and connects with my right knee. I feel the blow reverberate through my bones as my kneecap cracks. I bite back a scream and pant like I’m in labour. Dent looks happy until I start laughing, tears running down my face.  
“That's more like it!” I gasp. My vision is blurry but I can see him grimace. He puts down the hammer and turns away. “What’s wrong?” I shout. “Did you jizz too early baby? Or can’t you get it up? They’ve got pills for that.”  
The cruder I get the more Zsasz laughs. His hands on my shoulders are like vices.   
“She’s just as crazy as him.” I hear Dent hiss.   
“Only because you drive me crazy!” I cry. “Come on you pussy! Aren't you man enough for me?”  
He turns and starts to punch me, in the face, the stomach, the chest. I grunt with each hit. When he subsides I can feel one of my eyes swelling and I’m sure one of my ribs is cracked. My lip is split further and I can feel blood flowing down my chin. My teeth feel loose and my head is spinning, it lolls down onto my chest.   
“Lift her head.” I hear Dent say, but it sounds like its coming from far away. Zsasz takes a hand off my right shoulder and twists it into my hair, yanking my head up. Dent is peering into my face and I smile at him. He’s twisting a long shining knife in his hands.  
He stabs it into my left thigh and I shriek, my back arching.  
“Fuck!” I grunt. He’s smiling now. He pulls the blade out slowly savoring my reaction.   
“I’ve got to go now, sweetheart.” He purrs. “Victor here is going to take good care of you, aren't you Victor?”  
“Oh yes.” I hear him reply. His hands leave me and I hear him walking around me. My head lolls forward again and my eyes shut involuntarily.  
“Good, a real man.” I mutter. He snarls and I hear Dents footsteps recede, followed by The Penguin.  
Hard fingers grip my sore face and tilt it up. Zsasz is shirtless now, his bald head shines in the light and he looks fascinating, covered almost completely in tally marks scarred into his flesh.   
“Hello handsome.” I say, trying to smile. “You going to give me a pretty ruby necklace?”   
His bright eyes dim for a moment.  
“Sorry, gorgeous.” He says leaning close. “Dent made me promise not to finish you too quick.”  
“Well, lets get on with it then.” I reply and he smiles.

The next hour feels like an eternity. Zsasz is a very clever and ingenious man. When I thought I couldn’t feel any deeper pain he found it.   
By the time he decided to end the fun He’d unchained me from the chair, most of my fingers were broken and I was pretty sure all my ribs were broken. I lay on my side, wheezing when he rolled me onto my back. I moaned, my voice broken. He lifted me, forcing me to sit up and he crouched there with an arm around me like a lover.   
“Hush, it’ll all be gone soon.” He cooed in my ear and I groaned as he slid a long blade into my stomach, He slid it out quickly and lay me down tenderly. He stood up and I watched helplessly as he used the same knife to carve a line into his chest, completing a five count over his heart.  
He sighs and arches his back, my vision is blurred and for a second I saw a green haired figure in the shadows. I can feel all the warmth leaving my body. I blink slowly and see the ghost again this time closer, behind my killer.   
I close my eyes and don’t even flinch at the sound of a gunshot. Running feet then cold fingertips touching my face.  
“Nonononononononononono!” A growling whisper. I protest feebly as arms slide under me, lifting me. I slide away into the dark.


	16. Healing

“She’s dying, J.” A voice I know nearby. Something’s pressing my stomach, it hurts.  
I shift and whimper.  
“Shhhhhh.” Warm breath on my face and my eyes flutter open. Blue eyes, bright and manic so close to mine. I cough weakly and try to smile.  
Gone again.

“Get her to surgery! She’s fading fast!” A shout close to my head. Light, too bright above me. Hands all over, touching, hurting. There’s something on my face pushing air into me.  
Gone.

Light again, too bright. I want to lift my arm and shade my eyes but they’re so heavy. The pain is still there but far away. I manage to twitch a finger, stiff, like I’m wearing thick gloves.   
My lips are dry, so thirsty.   
Gone.

Breathing easier now. My head feels like it’s full of cotton wool. Soft beeping nearby. My eyes flicker open for a second. White tiles.  
“She’s doing well.” A voice, far away but deep and resonant.  
I force my eyes open again. Bed. Hospital.  
It hurts but I look around me. I’m in a room alone. The walls are all windows and I can see the back of a cop outside, guarding me. My bed is in the middle of the room surrounded by machines and there's an uncomfortable looking armchair in the corner.  
I brace myself and look down. Both my arms are in casts up to the elbow lying on top of the blankets and there's tubes running under the blankets I guess into my chest. Almost every finger is covered with a splint and bandaged thoroughly My knee is in a brase and held aloft by a arm jutting from the side of the bed. There’s a mask over my mouth and nose, pushing air into my lungs. One of my eyes feels numb and won’t open fully.   
I feel tears well in my eyes and I sob into the mask. Every inch of skin I can see is bruised and i can feel the stitches in my lip. I should be dead.  
I let my head fall back and I hear someone enter the room. A man, tall and handsome, dressed in green scrubs and a long white coat. He is looking at a clipboard and making notes when he notices I’m awake and his eyes fly open. He rushes to my side and checks the machines.  
“You’re okay, you’re safe.” He says soothingly and I try and curse at him but only a wheezing sound comes out.  
“Don’t try and speak.” He says and presses a button linked to something next to me that I can’t see. I hear a soft liquid sound and the world starts to fade.

The next time I wake its to the sound of sobbing, someone next to me. I force my eyes open and blink away the fog. There's a woman sat in the armchair. It’s been drawn next to me and she's got her head in her hands, her blonde hair bobbing with each sob. She’s heavily pregnant.  
Laura.  
I manage to croak and she looks up, startled. My lip twitches, the closest I can get to a smile.  
I want to tell her she looks good. I want to ask her why she came. I want to ask her how long I’ve been here.  
She touches my arm and pain blooms there instantly. I gasp and she pulls away fast. I’m fading again but I fight it. Want to stay awake.  
I force my eyes wide and try to look at her to take in her face but my vision blurs my eyelids are so heavy.  
“I’m sorry.” I hear her whisper before darkness descends again.

Over the next week I wake more and more often, for longer periods. The thing next to me seems to be feeding me painkillers and sedatives but they’re lowering the dose.  
I hate it. I want to smash it into a million pieces.  
I manage to croak ‘water’ at a nurse who dabs a damp sponge to my lips. My first word in what feels like a million years.  
A day later and a doctor finally comes to talk to me. He’s old and his grey hair looks almost translucent. He talks at me quietly. Tells me everything that's wrong with me.  
Broken bones and puncture wounds, I ruptured my vocal chords screaming into the dark, one of my eye sockets is cracked, my kneecap is shattered and I lost a lot of blood. I nod almost imperceptibly at him, understanding. I’ve been sleeping for a week.  
I was dead for a few minutes. They brought me back.  
I manage to say ‘thank you’ and he gives me a smile.   
Day by day I can speak more and move a little. Eventually I get a special visitor.  
I come awake to find Commissioner Gordon sat by my bed.  
“Hello.” I whisper and he looks up.  
“Hello.” He replies and puts away the folder he was flipping through and pulls out a pad and pen. “I came to see if you could remember anything.”  
“Zsasz.” I manage and he nods.  
“We got him, he’s in Arkham. Apparently he’s very unhappy you survived.”  
“Didn’t.” I say and he raises an eyebrow.   
“Oh yes the doctors told me.” He replies. “Can you tell us anything about where you were, what happened.”  
“Hard.” I whisper.  
“Please try.”  
“Warehouse. Dark. Smelled. Paint.” I say, each word is a fight. He writes this down. “Cop.” I say and he looks up.  
“A cop? A police officer was there?”  
“Took me.” I reply.  
“You’re telling me an officer took you to the Warehouse?”  
“-es.” I say getting tired.   
“And left you there?”  
“-es.”  
“Knowing what was going to happen to you?”  
“-es.” I say and my eyes flutter closed. “Hurts.” I say and drift off.

Every day I’m a little stronger.   
Another week and I can speak quietly but properly. My knee is lowered to the bed and I don’t have to wear a breathing mask anymore. My face is healing and I can eat soft food.  
A week after that and the splints come off my fingers. They encourage me to move them, to relearn my grip. I can eat normally now though it takes a while.  
The casts on my arms come off a few days later. My wrists are tender but I can move them. The first time I pick up a cup and lift it to my mouth I nearly cry.  
I’m allowed to move around a little on crutches. Not able to leave the room but standing feels good in short bursts.   
Finally the brace on my knee is removed. I’ve been in the hospital for nearly eight weeks. I’m allowed to shower with a nurse stood outside.   
I take off the hospital gown and look at my body for the first time in a long while.   
There are scars everywhere. Some fine like spider web like those on my face and shoulders some thick and still deep red like the one in my stomach a few inches above my belly button. Nurses asked me about my other scars and I tell them the truth. Some are gifts from my husband. Some are accidents. The worst, a fine line running straight down my stomach, only noticeable if I tanned or if you really looked, marked the worst day of my life. Not the first day he hit me but the first time I felt like I deserved it.

At last I was strong enough to return to Blackgate.   
I still needed a crutch to help me walk, I needed to sleep a lot and My voice wasn’t that strong but I was healed. I thanked the nurses and they seemed confused by me. I guess it’s not everyday that a famous murder thanks you.  
Two uniformed officers wheeled me to a car and helped me in.   
“Miss!” One of the nurses ran up and handed me a purple envelope. “I forgot to give you this, It’s from all of us!” She smiled and left me to be buckled in by the cops.   
I figured it was a get well card.  
As we slowly drove through the light Sunday traffic I opened it to find a card with a simple design of a happy duckling on the front. I was expecting to find it full of signatures from the staff but instead found familiar handwriting in purple ink:

Junction at 4th and Main. Be ready.

“What did she give you?” One of the officers asked when he saw me smiling in the rearview mirror.  
“Oh just a get well soon card.” I reply. I fold it up and put it back in the envelope, putting it down at my side. I did my best to look casual as I looked out the window, counting turnoffs.  
At last Main Street came into view.  
The driver slammed on the breaks as a large black SUV drove out in front of us. He stopped dead and I looked around, Every turnoff was blocked and men were climbing out of cars pointing every shape and size of gun I could think of at us.  
“Out!” came a voice I recognised. Frost yanked open the driver's door and pulled him out, his partner came out willingly and I looked up as my door opened. A pale hand with tapered fingers was offered to me and I took it. He was smiling at me, in his favorite purple shirt with his favorite holster over his shoulders.  
He noticed me stumble and swept me up in his arms and carried me to his own distinctive car. He gently installed me in the car and got in. As he drove away I heard two shots. I fell asleep in the car.

I woke up in his bed. It took me a moment to realise I wasn’t dreaming. He was lying next to me, leaning on his elbow and tracing my lips with his fingertip.   
“It was real?” I whispered and he nodded. “Tired.” I say closing my eyes again. He slides his fingers around my hand and I feel him kiss my cheek. After a while I feel him move and my eyes fly open. I grip his hand and he squeezes mine gently reassuringly.   
“Here.” He says and I relax. I roll over and run my fingers over his jaw. I lean close and kiss him tenderly letting the kiss deepen gradually.   
We lie side my side, barely touching. When his tongue glides against mine I pull his hand to my hip to encourage him. He moves closer and slides his hand over my hip to my waist but no further.   
He breaks the kiss and backs away I reach for him but he stands and moves to the door.   
“I missed you.” I say and he pauses before leaving and closing the door.  
Alone in the bed I slump back, confused. All my imaginings of this reunion were wrong.


	17. Homecoming

I sleep for a while, my body gives me little choice. I don’t dream.  
Waking to familiar surroundings feels more surreal than I would have imagined.  
I limp to the closet thinking to borrow some of his clothes. Out of habit I open one of the drawers that were mine once.  
I’m surprised to find my old clothes still folded neatly inside. It’s all still here. I shake my head, trying not to think too much into this, maybe he just forgot about them. When I’d lived here I’d found one or two pieces of clothing from his other girls, but only that, this was a whole wardrobe.  
I pull out an old favorite outfit: blue jeans and a long sleeved black tee. I wash and get dressed. As I’m tying back my hair I hear a female voice ring through the house. I feel like I should be angry but instead I’m amused. I pick up The Jokers favored silver headed cane to help be along and make for the door. As an afterthought I open a drawer at random and slide the first gun I find into the waistband of my jeans. I was lucky I’d lost so much weight during my hospital stay or the jeans would have felt constricting. Instead they hugged me comfortably and the weight of the automatic pistol against my back felt like an old friend.  
I hobbled out of the room and carefully closed the door behind me. I remembered the house well and hoped the layout hadn’t changed as I made my way, slowly, downstairs.  
A familiar face sat in the TV room, watching a football game.  
“Mack.” I say and he hops to his feet. The smile on his face is so warming I’m taken aback. It seems he missed me.  
“It’s good to see you.” He says and I sit on the chair next to him. He turns down the volume. There are other men sat around watching bt they don’t seem to mind, they’re all familiar and all of them seem relaxed, even happy, to have me there.  
“How have you been?” I ask.  
“Okay, it was difficult after you left but we got used to it.” He said carefully. We both turn when we hear a woman laughing a few rooms away. Its coming from his office.  
“He got over me pretty fast then.” I say, smiling.  
“Something like that.” Mack replied, mirroring my smile. “Where did you go?”  
I can feel the others in the room listening.  
“Metropolis, I got a job in a grocery store.” I laughed at myself. “It was weird, and…” I paused. “Boring.” I admitted. “Prision was no fun either. Thanks for getting me out of that, by the way.” I say this to the whole room and there is a chorus of replies.  
“We were happy to. We watched the whole thing on TV your arrest, the trial.” Mack said.  
“You looked so classy.” Said one of the men, whose name I thought was Tom. I smiled at him and he blushed.  
I looked down at myself. My leg ached a little and my wrists were trembling slightly. I took in a deep breath and tried to look like I was holding it together.  
“I’d better go introduce myself to the new lady of the house. Has she been around long? Didn’t see any of her things in his bedroom.” I say this casually as I pull myself to my feet.  
“A month or so but they never really stay here, never did.” Mack says offhandedly but it hits me like a punch in the gut.  
“Wait. They don’t stay here? I did.” I say and he looks shocked that I didn’t know this.  
“I’ve worked for J for nearly six years and you’re the only girl he ever let stay here. Most don’t even stay the night.”  
“Oh.” My head spins. I feel like a wound in my heart has opened again and the raw edges rub painfully.  
I turn away and walk down the hall to his office. I don’t knock. We’re beyond knocking.  
He’s sat behind his desk and there’s a girl draped over the marred wood. She’s knocked her long blonde hair behind her, baring her neck and arching her back wantonly. Her short red dress hugs her slight frame well and her makeup is immaculate. My mind flashes to the many times he purposely ruined my lipstick because he loved how I looked with it smeared. I lean against the doorframe. His eyes have flown to me and I see them brighten.  
“Come on Mr J! I wore your favorite colour, don’t you like it?” She purrs, not noticing the intrusion. I can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. Red? No that's not his favorite colour. Any fool could see that.He reaches out and grabs his hand, pulling it to her breasts. “Lets have some fun!” If she doesn’t notice his hesitation I won’t point it out.  
I cough politely and she whips round. She has big green eyes and bigger lashes. I’ve never considered myself more than passably pretty but she was utterly gorgeous. For a second the women he’s been with skitter across my mind. I feel like a rhinestone on a bag of diamonds.  
“Who the fuck are you?” She snaps, her melodic voice turning to sandpaper.  
“Just an old friend of ‘Mr J’.” I say smiling and entering the room. She notes my limp and her eyes narrow.  
“You're her, right. The one that got beat up by that loser.” She says and my smile widens.  
“Something like that. Your man there did me a favor and got me out of going back to Blackgate. Solitary never was my style.”  
“What do you want?” She growls but I’ve already looked away to her conflicted lover. It’s clear he hasn’t told her anything about me.   
“Oooooooh!” I say meeting his eyes. “Got yourself a fiery one this time, lover.” His lip twitches. “Whats your name, lovely?” I ask her.  
“Mary.” She snaps, as if I should have already known.  
“Mary, Mary, quite contrary.” I sing and his lip twitches again. She pouts at me.   
“What’s that supposta mean?” She says sliding off the desk. I step closer and The Joker stands smoothly. His eyes meet mine and I want to slap him then rub myself all over him. Get her smell off him. I chuckle at myself.  
“Nothing at all.” I reply. When I speak at normal volume now my voice rasps slightly, It seems I’ve spoken too much and I feel a tickle in my throat. I cough to clear it then groan at the shockwave of ache it sends through me. He steps closer to me and I can see she’s expecting him to intimidate me, send me screaming. A smug look crosses her face but dies when he reaches out to crook a finger under my chin. He looks concerned, an odd look for him.  
“Don’t worry, lover.” I whisper. “I’ll be just fine. You know she reminds me of someone.” I turn and look at the girl gawking at us her fists clenched. “That waitress, the one who lost the coin toss. You remember.” His eyes flash and a genuine smile crosses his face.  
“Mr J! Whats going on?” The girl whines and his hand drops.   
“Nothing.” He grunts and steps away from me.  
“Don’t worry about it, kid.” I say, not looking at her. “I owe you a drink, Joker. I’ll be at The Bloodlust Club tomorrow night. Care to join me?”  
“Ooooh I love that place!” She pipes up. And I smile. She jumps between us and ramps her arms around him obsessively. “Can we go, babycakes, please!”  
I stifle a laugh and mouth ‘babycakes’ at him. He looks annoyed.  
“We’ll be there.” He says and he squeaks happily. I turn away to the door.  
“See you around then. I’m keeping the cane, looks better with me anyway.” I say over my shoulder. At the door a wicked thought crosses my mind and I look back before closing the door. “Oh, and Mary?” She turns to look at me and so does he our eyes locking. “Be careful if he fucks you on that desk. You’ll get splinters.”  
I close the door on his laugh and it echoes down the hall. 

As I limp around the corner Frost steps away from where he was leaning.   
“Hey.” He says and I hold out my hand to him. He looks confused but shakes it.  
“Thank you.” I say.  
“For what?”   
“You were there. You came and got me. I guess you’re the one who convinced him to take me to the hospital.” He takes his hand from mine and rubs the back of his neck boyishly.  
“You were…. It was bad.” He says and I nod.   
In the silence I hear rhythmic thumping coming from the office and I motion for me and Frost to move away.  
“You seem… calm.” He says as we walk.  
“What am I supposed to do? Runin there and kill her with my bare hands?” I laugh wryly. “She’s not worth the effort.” He grunts.  
“So whats your plan?” He asks and I smile up at him.  
“Can I get a ride?”

Its after nine when he drops me off in the cool autumn air in front of my favorite jazz bar. I can hear the music from inside and close my eyes for a moment on the pavement. Savoring the feel of being outside, unfettered and unafraid. He drives off leaving me there.  
I saunter to the doorman who takes one look at me and opens the door respectfully.  
“He’s in his booth, ma’am.” He says and I offer him a small smile.   
I walk carefully through the bar, it’s quiet tonight and he sees me coming a mile away. I stand in front of his booth with the silver headed cane in front of me, leaning onnit with both hands to hide that fact that my wrists are shaking.   
The twins are on either side of him and I must look like a ghost to them. He motions for them to leave,I stop one of them as she passes and hand her my gun.  
“Look after that for me.” I say and she nearly runs away. “Good evening, Mr Cobblepot.” I say as clearly as I can. He motions for me to sit and I carefully slide across from him.  
“You look good.” He says, his beady eyes taking me in, i’m sure he sees the scars, the weak points. “How are you feeling?”  
A glass of white wine appears in front of me and I sip it carefully. It tastes like ambrosia.  
“Tired. I’m always tired but I’m healing. I guess I have you to thank for that.” I say.  
“Me?” He says with false modesty.  
“I got a look at my paperwork at the hospital.” I say swirling the pale amber liquid in my glass. “Takes a lot of money to stitch someone like me back together. Your money, apparently.”  
“I’m a generous guy.” He says, grinning.  
“And I’m guessing you’re the one who told the clown where I was.” I look into his beady eyes. “So I guess we’re even.”   
He looks uncomfortable.  
“Not quite.” He says. “I’m the one who got Zsasz out of Arkham. Dent paid me to organise it then invited me to ‘the show’.” He raised his chubby fingers in quotations.  
“I’m guessing you didn’t know that I was the show.” I say and he nods. “Can’t blame you for that. You didn’t swing the hammer yourself.” He winces as I remind him of Debts cruelty.  
“Strikes me more like guilt. Can’t have that. That sort of thing will eat you up from the inside.”  
“What do you suggest?” I drink some more of the wine.  
“I need a few things.”   
“What did you have in mind?”


	18. Flip

He gave me someplace to stay and his girls did their best to turn me from a ghost to glamourous. The dress is long and made from shimmering deep green silk. Its split to the hip on both sides showing my sun deprived, scarred legs. Its sleeveless and low cut, showing the dent in one of my collar bones that the doctors tell me will never go away. My hair is curled and bounces as I move and my makeup is dark and perfectly done. The heels on my simple black shoes are low as I can’t handle anything higher and I wear no jewelry, the silver head of my former lover’s cane the only adornment.  
I’m driven to the club in a beautiful town car and stand in line patiently to enter. I hear the other patrons around me muttering. If any of them recognise me from the papers they don’t seem inclined to do anything about it. My scars glow under the neon lights, I look more vampiric than the idiots around me could ever manage.  
I pay the cover charge, A few bills stashed in my bra. I let the doorman see the lace of it as I pull out the twenty and hand it to him.   
I walk in and am it again by a wall of sound. My life had been so quiet these past months it took a moment to adjust. A few people look curiously at me as I pass to sit at a table in the bar but nothing more than admiration or confusion about my limp.  
I watch the bartender for a while, nursing a cocktail.  
A man comes up to me, wearing a dark dress shirt and slacks, long hair pulled back into a roguish ponytail. His smile is a little lopsided but his eyes are clear.  
“Hello gorgeous.” He says and I treat him to a smile of my own. “Mind if I sit here?” He points to the seat next to me.  
“Go ahead.”  
“I’m Brett. What’s your name?” he asks after sitting down and leaning across the table to me.   
“What would you like to call me?” I purr and his eyes light up.  
He slides a hand into my lap and I smile.  
“Hi there!” I look up and there they stand. The Clown Prince of Gotham in his iconic suit and his new Princess looking gothically delicious.  
“Good evening.” I say and motion for them to sit. She takes the seat next to me leaving The Joker to stand opposite. “My friend Brett here will just get us some drinks. Won’t you?” I turn to my new companion and he nods enthusiastically before asking them what they want and hurrying to the bar. He’s eager to please me it seems. I keep my hands folded in my lap.  
I let my eyes follow the dark haired man to the bar, he walks past it and away into the gloom.  
“What do you think of the club, Mary?” I say and she looks excited.  
“Isn’t it amazing, like stepping into the past!” She giggles and grins at The Joker. I look at him and see the heat in his eyes. He’s looking at my skin, the new scars, and following the line of my cleavage.  
“That’s the thing about history.” I say and she turns to me, smiling vacantly. Her smile fades and his grows when I pull out the gun Brett planted in my lap. “It tends to repeat itself.”   
I aim and fire, the bartender’s head explodes. I fire again into the dancing crowd, not noticing that Mary Is screaming and cowering against The Joker, whose grin is manic and beautiful.  
The music cuts out and the crowd runs for the exits. I stand, supporting myself on the table and watch as armed men appear.  
“Mr Dent! Mr Dent! Won’t you come out and playyyyyyyyyy.” I call as loud as I can. My voice echoes in the nearly empty space. I hear his shoes clacking and he emerges, gun already out and pointed at me.  
“You really do have a deathwish.” He growls. I step away from the table, cane clicking on the floor as I keep the gun leveled on him.   
“Don’t be like that, baby. You left before the fun really started last time. I just wanted you to see what a real man could do to a woman.” I purr at him.   
“She’s crazy!” I hear Mary cry, she’s trying to make heself smaller but The Joker has turned to watch us.   
“I should have gutted you!” Dent growls, the twisted side of his face sneering at me.  
“But isn’t this more fun?” I reply and knock my cane twice into the floor. A round of gunfire goes off seemingly from nowhere and each of the armed men falls. The Joker cackles madly.  
“What have you done?” Dent snaps stepping closer his gun trained on my chest. I raise an eyebrow and smile.  
“Just evening the odds.” I say charmingly. “Now isn’t this more intimate.” I say stepping closer to him. I can see him shaking with rage. Lower my gun slowly and get close enough his gun is touching my chest.   
I can see The Jokers smile fade out of the corner of my eye and hear the squeak of his chair as he stands up. I raise an arm to him.  
“Don’t interrupt.” I say to him and turn my attention back to Dent. “So here I am. Back at your mercy.” I whisper. “You gonna play by the rules this time?”  
He reaches into his pocket to pull out the coin. I smile.  
“Heads, you drop the gun and don’t try and kill me again… unless I deserve it.” He smiles at that. “Tails, you blow me away. I won’t stop you.” My voice is soft. I see Dent’s eyes flick to our audience. “They’re just here to ensure fair play.” I say.  
“Mr J, lets go!” I hear Mary hiss. I raise my gun and point it at her. She freezes, she’s wrapped around The joker’s waist hiding behind him..   
“You don’t want to miss this.” I say to her. I lock eyes with my former lover. “Go on then, Harvey.”  
I hear the coin be flicked into the air. I turn back as he catches it. Moving his gin for a second to slap it onto the opposite hand. The world seems to take a breath as he lowered the gun.   
“Heads.” He says, there’s no disappointment in his voice.  
I raise my gun to point at him again.   
“Your turn. Heads you live. Tails you die, slow.” I growl. He stares daggers at me and tosses the coin again. Another flick and he reveals it to me.  
“Heads again.” He smirks.  
He’s not ready as I step forward and kiss him. His gun is pressed between us as I attack his strange mouth. I hear The Joker growl behind us.  
When I step back from Dent his pupils are blown with desire and his lips are read and a little swollen.  
“Sealed with a kiss.” I say smiling.   
He composes himself and turns to walk away.  
“You’re quite a woman. Let me know if you ever tire of the clown.” He says over his shoulder.  
“I’ll think about it.” I call after him.  
I turn to the couple behind me and offer them a smile.  
“Are you fucking crazy!” Mary shrieks, stepping out from behind The Joker. He’s breathing heavy, his eyes not leaving me as I walk back towards them. She steps up and goes to slap me. I catch her hand and hold it, shaking my head. She tries to pull back her arm but while my wrist shapes my fingers are firm. “You could have gotten us killed!” Her voice is shrill and her face is full of panic.  
“Not my problem.” I say bluntly. I let her go and step back, looking at the green-haired man who stands transfixed. “See you around, lover.” I say and brush past him, cane clicking on the floor as I head for the exit.  
I hear a unmistakable sound behind me and turn.  
She’s grabbed one of his guns and has it leveled at me. Her shoulders are shaking.  
“I get it now!” She cried. “You used to be his whore. He’s mine now bitch, you can’t have him!”  
I laugh at her, I can’t stop. I laugh until I’m bent double and there are tears running down my face. Her face turns red.  
“You don’t get it, silly girl.” I manage, slowly regaining my composure. “It’s not my choice, or yours. Its his.”  
“Why’d you get us to come here then!”  
“Because there was a 50-50 chance I’d die tonight.” I replied looking into his eyes as he stood behind her. “And I wanted the last thing I saw to be the man I-” I started and saw his eyes widen. “The man I love.” I finished.   
He stepped forward, pushing past her to stand in front of me. He cupped my face with one hand and slid the other around my waist. His eyes searched mine, questioning before kissing me with enough force to knock the air from my lungs.  
I dropped the cane and raised one hand to his chest.  
“No!” I hear before the boom of a gunshot. He’s rigid in my hands and suddenly he’s leaning all his weight on me. I touch his back and my hand comes away wet.


	19. Beautiful

I manage to lower us down, He’s hit in the shoulder. He’ll live. He’s lying on me, pinning my arms.  
“You Bitch!” I shout at her. She looks shocked. “Look at what you did!”  
I try to move him but he’s too heavy and my arms are too weak. He grunts and his eyes flutter open. They focus on my face.  
I hear her high heels on the floor, she stands over me and pints the wavering gun at my head. I find his hand with mine and his fingers wrap around what I give him.  
He spins around and fires a single shot into her chest. She topples back and gurgles for a moment before lying still.  
He touches the wound gingerly. It went straight through him My guess is that had she aimed lower it would have hit me as well. I reach up to check he’s okay but freeze when he turns to me.  
“Let’s get out of here.” I say and he nods. He manages to stand and we help eachother out of the club. I steal a jacket from the cloakroom and use it to staunch the bleeding.  
We climb into his car and I drive us home. The place looks like a upturned ants nest when his men find out he’s hurt. I leave him with the medic to go and get cleaned up.  
I’m okay but for aching joints. I got covered in a fine mist of his blood and I watch it drain away as I step in the shower.  
I dry off and on a whim change into something I hadn’t thought I’d ever wear. I sat on the bed and dug in the bedside drawer for a bottle of vodka I stashed there a while ago. I pull it out and note that it’s not been touched, in fact nothing I left in that drawer, just a few bits of makeup and pieces of jewelry. I feel my heart stop when I touch something familiar.  
I pull it out onto my lap. Its tarnished and the paint is chipped but its my gun. Not the one I carried while I lived here but the one he gave me before I realised who I really was. ‘Hotshot’ it still reads. He must have had it pulled from the harbour and cleaned.  
Its loaded and I pull back the hammer experimentally. The mechanism is still smooth.  
I stand, it hanging from my grip, the weight so familiar. I leave the cane and limp out into the hall. I stop the first passing figure. He looks panicked, I am armed, but tells me that he’s in his office.  
I head straight there. I pass several more men but they’re just white noise now. I slam the door to the office open and walk in, throwing the door closed behind me.  
It’s dark in there, lit only by the monitors behind the desk. He’s shirtless but for the bandages around his left shoulder. He’s watching the old footage of the day I saved him from Dent. He’s not looking at me, leaning on the arm of the chair and staring dumbly at the screens. I watched a grainy version of myself get dragged beside him. Watched as I took a man’s life and allowed Joker to take more.  
“Beautiful.” He whispered and I looked into his face. I swallowed and he turned his eyes to me, not moving.  
I heard his breath catch and I did my best to slink forward. The nightgown had been bought for a slimmer woman, the woman on the screen but it still had the effect I’d wanted. His mouth sat open slightly he turned himself in the chair and I waited while his eyes flowed over me. I smiled and dropped the gun on the desk with a thud.  
“Miss me?” I ask.  
He stands and flows around the desk like water. His arms slip around me pulling me against him. His kiss is full of the fire I remembered. He pushes me against the wall and I hitch my weaker leg over his hip. He nips at my neck and I mutter encouragements as he grinds against me.  
He’s getting rougher, hands everywhere and I gasp from the feel of him. My legs are still weak from underuse and i can feel myself slipping. He slides his hands under my ass and lifts me so both legs are around his waist, pressing me into the wall.  
My nightgown hitched up around my hips and he tugged at my panties. I fumbled at the catch to his trousers, fingers still unused to fine movements and distracted as he slid his tongue over my jaw. With a grunt he replaced my hands with his own and in a flash the slacks were gone and I could feel him pressing against me. He ripped my panties away and free of this last barrier he was inside me and beating a head spinning pace against my hips.  
I cried out and clutched at his back gasping and moaning at his touch.  
He bit into my shoulder, hard enough for it to bleed and I felt myself losing all control. I screamed his name as I climaxed and he followed quickly behind.  
We stayed, panting against the wall for a moment, I slid one trembling leg down but he didn’t let go. His head was buried in my shoulder and I could feel him panting.  
He raised his head slowly and his mouth was bloody. He kissed me and our tongues mingled in the sour copper tang.  
“You said-” He muttered pressing his cheek to mine. He was still inside me, my arms around him.  
“I-” I began and he pulled away. My legs gave out at the sudden loss of support but he didn’t catch me.  
I fell to my knees and looked up at him in the flickering glare of the screens. He looked scared, a deer in the headlights.  
“I meant it.” I say quietly. He scoops up the gun and points it at me. I don’t flinch. I look into his eyes, not at the gun and slowly pick myself up. “I love you.”  
He pulls back the hammer and I breathe out slowly.  
“You left, you’ll leave again.” He growls, his eyes are dark and his lips swollen. He’s pulled his slacks back up but the fly is open. His muscles stand out in relief in the odd light and I see no weakness in him.  
“Only if you want me to. I won’t live in a cage but I can’t live without you.” I say and he steps closer, pushing the gun into my jaw. “You never have to tell me. Ever.” I say.  
I creep my fingers around his wrist, feel the tension in his tendons.  
He drops the gun and buries his hand in my hair and presses his forehead against mine.  
“I love you.” He says through gritted teeth.  
I slide my arms around his neck and we stay there for the longest time, just breathing together.

I wake in his arms the next day and he refuses to let go until I beg to use the bathroom. As soon as I step out he lifts me up and storms back to the bed.  
By the time we emerge from his room exhausted again. I sit on his lap in his office while he talks to his men. They don’t blink an eye that I’m there. He’s planning to raid a shipment of drugs that a man known as ‘The Scarecrow’ has brought in.  
As they get up to leave he tugs me close for a searing kiss. I climb in his car with my gun at my side and we tore ahead of the pack to the place they intended to raid. I smiled as he screams around corners.  
When we reach the meeting point he pins me against the car and grinds against me. The rest of his men arrive and he grins.  
“You ready, Hotshot?” He asked.  
“Always.” I replied, my lipstick already smeared.

I'd started caring without noticing.  
Caring about myself, caring about others, caring about him.  
I remembered the dreary colourless days without him, his touch. I didn’t know who I was then, my strength, my fire. I don’t care what he does, even if he kills me, at least I’ll have lived.  
I’d tried to get away, so many times. I came back and the cage was gone.  
I stayed by his side, his shadow. Our home was broken but we healed each other. I didn’t duck anymore, didn’t cry anymore, didn’t resist anymore. I didn’t need to duck, he had my back. I didn’t need to cry, I laughed too much. I didn’t need to resist, he was irresistible.  
I wore makeup and he smudged it.  
I learnt to live on booze and adrenaline.  
I wore what I wanted, though he prefered nothing at all.  
I drank, I smoked, I screamed, I laughed. He laughed along with me  
He was king I was his queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well thats all folks! Yeah sorry about the fake out at the end here... please don't throw anything too heavy at me.
> 
> I honestly didn't think this would be over 50,000 words long but hey I think its okay (yes i know it needs editing but I'm a lazy bugger!)
> 
> Thanks to those of you who left me comments and kudos, I'm new to fanfiction so Its nice that I got a little bit of notice.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this. I know its a bit dark and gritty but that's kinda my style. I'll try to lighten it up for the next one... yeah I've already got some ideas.
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think (positive and negative welcome).


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